#possible future drag king in the making??

[angelofpizza]

jo mama

if i ever achieve the dream of being a drag king living in California someday, I want to look like Peppino Spaghetti from Pizza Tower. It's because when I move out when I graduate and after making a life in California, I want to traumatize my adult brain that one time I made sus fanart of Peppino Spaghetti and gained followers from it during high school

i would like my drag king nickname to either be Peppy Spaghettios, Rey Nessance, or even San François... what do y'all think is better for me? 👉👈

ALSO AHHAHAHA I'M CLOSE TO SUMMER BREAK

TOMORROW IS THE LAST DAY OF SCHOOL FOR ME AHAHAHHAHAHHH

ahahah what's even better is that pride month is coming up and imma come out early... I'm bigender lol

[gatorbites-imagines]

Yes! Wolverine & Deadpool having a brat off? Both sub brat bottoms competing for reader? Maybe ending up in a 3way relationship

Logan Howlett x Cable variant male reader x Wade Wilson

Headcanons

I like cable, so, cable variant reader. i had a lot of fun writing this, so i hope yall enjoy.

You were a variant of cable, that much was clear when Logan and Wade first met you in the void. The mechanical eye and arm were a pretty clear tell.

And Wade, already knowing his own Cable, immediately started squealing and trying to jump at you to hug you and kiss you all over in the way Deadpool is known for. Of course you throw him off you, maybe even shoot him once or twice, because who wouldn’t.

You and Logan were both pretty gruff guys, with pasts of your own that made you that way, where Wade was just his annoying self. It helped keep everything less tense though, especially in the fight against Cassandra.

In the end, you somehow got dragged along to the big fight, and you being a cable variant got different versions of Deadpool to start fawning over you during the whole fight sequence with them.

After it all was done and over with, you also got dragged along to Wades timeline. You were different enough to his cable to fit in without the universe ripping itself apart, and what could you say, you had grown to like these two, as much as you butted heads.

Blind Al was immediately against both you and Logan moving in, since there was barely any room at all. She did appreciate you being able to cook though, and the fact that you could jump across time to get her cocaine from the future.

In the end, Wade, Logan and you move out together after taking different jobs, and getting paid by the TVA to deal with variants making their way into this universe. You bring Mary poppins obviously.

You couldn’t tell when it all got romantic, neither could Logan and Wade honestly. You all lives together, and you'd left Wade in charge of getting beds, like the idiots you were. And of course he got one of those Alaskan king beds

Wade pouted and whined about how you were both so hairy, and how he was hairless all over so of course he needed to cuddle between you and Logan for warmth. It resulted in some fighting, Wade getting impaled by Logans claws, and you scruffing them both to pull them apart like scrabbling cats.

In the end you guys keep the bed though, and end up sleeping together with you in the middle. Logan has a preference to sleep on your mechanical arm, since he can’t break it easily, and wade just likes to tuck himself as deep into the crook of your arm as possible, always moaning about man stench and how nice and hairy you are.

That always results in you rolling over so your backs towards him, deciding to just spoon Logan instead. And yes, you do notice the little cocky smirk on Logan's lips when you do it, especially when he makes sure Wades watching. Its only when Wade starts rolling on the bed whining like a shot dog that he’s so cold and lonely that you roll back over to let him cuddle against you again.

Logan isn’t the most affectionate guy in the beginning, where Wade is too much. Its clear to you that they’re both acting like this as a defense mechanism, and it takes a long time for you to work them both to a place where they’re more comfortable.

You aren’t too shocked that Logan and Wade both turn out to be cuddlebugs, Logans just a lot grumblier and more catlike about it, where Wade is more like an over excited puppy slobbering all over your face, because he got the bright idea to try and lick your mechanical eye.

What you hadn’t expected was for them both to be so… damn… bratty…

Wade you could see, hell, it was even expected. It didn’t even take him an hour after meeting for him to bend over too much and grind back against you and giggle like a schoolgirl about it. Logan had been a bit of a shock though.

You had assumed you two would need to duke it out for dominance like a pair of bears for territory, but after getting him comfortable, Logan just rolls over and shows his stomach. It left you scratching your head a bit, but you weren’t gonna turn him away, who wouldn’t want to top Logan?

Him acting bratty was an experience though, the first few times. Where Wade was bratty in the way where hed show off way too much, wearing tight clothes or rubbing on you, teasing you any chance he got. Logan was brattier in the way that made you want to throw him over your knee and smack some sense into him, with the nonorganic hand you had.

He started scratching at furniture, leaving your boots and weapons all over the apartment, using up all your leather grease and leaving the tin empty in your toolbelt. It was like he was trying to see which buttons he could press and which he couldn’t.

Maybe it was because of your mind powers, but you could feel the, whatever it was, brewing in the air, growing thicker each day. It got to the point where Wade and Logan mixed up their methods. How the hell were you gonna focus on your guns when Logan was flaunting around in nothing but a way too small towel, and Wade was making a damn mess in the kitchen he wasn’t gonna clean up?

Logan was the first to pick up when they’d gone too far, since hed been hypervigilant about your scent since they started rocking the boat. But Wade very quickly paid attention when you put your, unpolished still, boots on and got up.

They’d both tensed up when you turned your two different eyes towards them, the tech eye flaring in a way they both knew meant business. They were both left floundering though, as you grabbed your jacket and told them to get ready for when you came back, and you just… left.

Both Wade and Logan were lost about that, both expecting you to bend them both over and make them regret how far they had pushed you, but instead they could just hear your heavy boots stomping down the hallway and out the apartment building.

Neither of them were too well behaved, but they were smart enough to at least get naked and prepped, and maybe they helped each other, though it was mainly Wade riding Logans fingers and whining like he was wounded the entire time.

A good hour passed before you came back, smelling like the cigarettes you smoked when you needed to do a more serious hit. Logan could also smell alcohol on you, but nowhere near enough to mean you were drunk. You had clearly just let them be to make them anxious.

Wade got whiny and grumbly when you undid your belt and freed yourself, just tilting your head in their direction as if to say “you gonna apologize to me?”. Logan, being the smarter of the two, and wanting to be first, was quick to crawl towards you and wrap his lips around your shaft.

Wade, seeing this, immediately started complaining and crawling over, trying to lap at whatever Logan couldn’t fit in his mouth, which wasn’t a lot, seeing as Logan didn’t want Wade to get any of you so he pushed his throat to the max.

As they fought for your cock, you just leaned back to watch, and unamused expression on your face as if it was the most boring blowjob you had ever gotten. Even as Wade swapped to lap at your sack instead, since Logan was hogging your cock.

You do end up fucking them both senseless, your telekinetic powers coming in handy to hold the one you weren’t shoving face first into the floor still. It also helped you keep Wades mouth shut, since he became even more of a motormouth with you inside him.

Of course, you also made Wade lick up the drool puddle he made on the floor, as well as making them both lick up the other messes they made. As a treat you let them eat your loads out of each other, because yes, you could be nice.

You weren’t though, so, even as Wade whined and complaining and Logan grumbled and scowled, you used your powers to cage them both up. If they were gonna be such brats, then they didn’t deserve to touch themselves, each other, or be touched by you.

And with the restriction being made from your mind powers, and you being so powerful, you could keep up with it even when asleep. And it wasn’t like they could just pull it off.

It led to even more bratting for the next couple of weeks, both of them acting out in their own ways about the punishment. But you just end up lengthening the period of your punishments, and adding more stuff on top of it.

Surprisingly its Wade that gets taken out of it first, since he could be good when he wanted too, and Logan has a tendency to be extremely stubborn. To no one’s surprise, Wade gloated the entire time he was allowed to ride you, taunting Logan that he wished it was him, but it wasn’t.

You did have to spank him for that one, but Wade didn’t seem to mind that much.

When you finally let Logan out, he’s on you in a second, whinier than you’re used too and rocking in your lap, more desperate than he’s been in years.

After all this you know their good behavior will only stick for a month or two before they’re back to it. you won’t complain though, since you love it. you act like you hate it, but that’s just part of the game, and seeing them compete makes your heart (and your crotch) full. And you all know that they enjoy the punishments too.

[thatnonameuser]

The Red King holds a Bleeding Head

A Wonderland of Yanderes - Masterlist

Chapter 1. Heartslaybul Part 3.

Apparently, what parts of the conversation you missed before running all the way here was that you missed the first bell and were late. So after running, being dragged, all the way here, you'd gone straight to class. 

Thankfully, Ace’s collar problem wasn’t a class problem, thanks to all the classes so far being theory.

With that problem out of the way let's get back to you.

If you planned on learning today, that plan went out the window. Not only where you still repeating what Cater had said to you earlier. Being ousted for being a darling would put you in such great danger, so the fact he figured it out in the hour you spent with him this morning was very much not good.

It also got your desk hit with Professor Crewel's riding crop/wand? for not paying attention in class. Speaking of, Crewel had been the one to rat you out to Crowley so you weren't expecting him to be kind to you, but unlike the brutal berating he gave Ace for making a sarcastic quip in the middle of his lecture, he'd given you a stern look and nothing else.

You just hope that it was fluke, because you don't want to think about the idea if he's in love with you too. Wait, is it possible for a yandere to love platonically, you'll have to research that.

If you can even do that, to begin with. Because the textbooks that you received aren't the right ones. Why? Because they're missing complete pages worth of information.

How do you know?

Because you compared it to Ace's.

There was a love potion spell that would be taught the first years next semester, powerful, dangerous and it could if used correctly sever cognitive thought from the darling for a period of a day, and replace it with false love.

Your copy of the same Potionology textbook didn't have that. Or any of the other potions that could do the same thing. In magical history, the ancient tactics used by yanderes were wiped clean from your copy, when they were present in Deuce's own.

What's worse is that this was done on purpose. How do you know that? Because you pointed it out.

At the end of Potionology, you'd gone to the Professor textbook in hand in search of an explanation.

"Excuse me, Professor Crewel?"

"Pup, it is Master Crewel." You were not calling him that, "How can help you?"

"Um, something's wrong with my textbook? It's missing a lot of pages." He taken it from you and flipped through it. And then set back in your hands.

"There is nothing wrong with this pup. It has everything you need in it." He'd said if he hadn't lied clean through his teeth.

"B-but I checked with one of the other textbooks, dozens of pages on potion recipes are missing?!" You'd argued.

"Pup, you are referring to the textbooks we give the yandere students. By law, I'm required to give you this one." What?!, was what you thought in anger.

"W-What law?" You asked, you were absolutely dumbstruck at his response. You were getting really tired of being left in the dark.

"Darling students are not allowed to readily access any knowledge about what their future yanderes will use against them, regardless of purpose." That was what came out of his mouth, he hadn't seen anything wrong with it.

It wasn't just that either. The same thing happened with your Magical History book when you asked Professor Trein. And you got some more bad news.

The library, your saving grace, wasn't allowed to give you any of the books they'd given you last time. No more information that could help you. You couldn't even use the textbooks Grim would get, as they were being kept in the classrooms rather than in Ramshackle. The jury was still out on your 'The Art of Ensnaring Hearts' class about whether or not you could even attend those in the future. Was this all done to keep you from learning about what the Yanderes know, to keep you from knowing how to save yourself?

Phys Ed, was the only class you could actually do without someone putting you at a disadvantage. It may not have been your favorite class, but considering you might need to run away from a yandere in the future, you ran as fast as you could.

And now your legs hurt real bad. You weren't the most athletic person but Coach Vargas really worked you over.

Eventually, after a really rough morning, break time rolled around.

"Let's see, our next class is...."

"This so-called magic academy feels a lot like a lame, ordinary school." Ace complains. You disagree, normal schools don't usually teach students how to make love spells. You hope at least. Do non-magic schools teach similar yandere stuff? "It's not exactly what I expected, but at least this collar won't be much of a problem after all."

"You with me on that, Grim? ....Hm?" Grim's silence hadn't struck you as weird until Ace said that. Your loudmouth, tuna-loving cat monster hadn't thrown up a complaint since you left your last class.

"Grim?" You search for Grim among the legs of traveling students but you can't find him. A bad feeling sinks into your stomach. Ace and Deuce couldn't do it. They were right next to you the whole time, so what happened to him?! Did he get-

"Oh! Look out the window! i just saw a ball of fur running across the yard!" Deuce exclaims. You transition the fear of his imminent demise to anger for his abandonment of you.

"Where!?" You nearly collide with the window in your haste, as Deuce points him out down below. A small grey blur races quickly across the courtyard, "He's cutting class!" The Headmaster's going to be furious. And the LAST thing you need is being kicked out into a world where MURDER IS OK!!!

"Boy, that guy is not a fast learner." Yeah, Deuce. Clearly!! He just left you alone in a yandere school! You're definitely withholding his tuna for this.

"Not a good look to lose your only student in your first week as a prefect. Want some help catching him?"

"YES!" You yell, not caring about the future implications. Two IOU's in one day is not gonna be good for you in the future. But right now, your present is on the line! "Please just help me!"

You don't know what you looked like when you said that, but considering how the both of them blushed, you'll have to worry about that later.

Right now, you need to get Grim, preferably before he burns something down.

And so you began the chase of Grim through the courtyard. With your legs still burned from the exhaustion of Coach Vargas' training, you could barely keep up with Ace and Deuce and nearly collapsed once on the way.

But thankfully, the fear and rage from earlier turned into adrenaline that propelled you forward.

And propel you it did, into a person.

You had been a few paces behind Ace and Deuce, but you were far enough to lose sight of them as they turned a corner into the courtyard.

So you hadn't seen the person you ran into, but inertia wasn't your friend today.

You had expected to hit the floor of the courtyard, concrete or grass, whichever was softer, and braced mentally for impact. Only for an arm to swiftly wrap around your waist.

Fast, so fast that you can't even get a letter out of your mouth in sheer surprise, whoever caught you had slipped an arm round your waist, saving you from your unlucky fall.

And so the charming prince that caught you was...

Blonde, with his hair cut into a mid-length bob. Perched on his head is a brown hat sporting a pale white feather. His green eyes are like a falcon's, sharp and piercing. He smiles down upon you. Your noses are practically an inch away from touching. The way you're positioned is straight out of a romance novel, the male lead saving the clumsy MC from a nasty fall.

The embarrassment of the situation you've found yourself in doesn't escape you as you feel the blood rush to your cheeks. "I-I’m sorry!" You blurt out. Thank the seven that there aren't many people around.

" , . I'm just lucky that I caught you." He's speaking French? But how does.....y’know what, nope not touching that one.

"Yeah, thanks." He still hasn't let you out of his hold, and you'd like it for him to let you go now. "Could you, uh, let me up now."

"Bien sûr, mon cher," he says something in French that you don’t understand, but he does help you to your feet with a flourish. He even spins you for some reason.

OK. Another weird one.

You dust yourself off, "Thanks, sorry again," you say somewhat sheepishly.

The smile your savior has is seemingly unshakable, and the laugh he gives you in reply reflects that, "Non non, ce n'est pas un problème du tout, though chérie, will you not grace me with your name?" He even speaks like all the lovelorn princes in your childhood storybooks, well minus all the French.

"It's _______. Have you seen a grey cat run through here?"

"Oui, filou he went that way," Great, you prepare to turn but he stops you with a hand on your shoulder, "though it is best if you head that way if you wish to find him." He points in a direction very far from where he originally pointed.

One of your eyebrows quirk up in confusion, "How do you know that?" You ask.

"Call it a hunter's intuition. You wouldn’t want to be late for Arithmancy, ______" He says with a smile.

You thank him before running in the direction he told you, and in no time at all, you find Deuce dropping a struggling Grim into a net Ace is holding.

And so the Great Grim was captured.

"Mrrah! I've had it with these boring classes!" He squirms in the net Ace took from one of the grounds men, even with his claws he can't escape the netting.

"Grim, you'll never be a great mage if you don't attend classes!" You scold but Grim doesn't stop complaining.

"Ugh! When did you get all bossy?!" Grim continues his complaning as you cross your arms.

You ignore his pointless pouting. You got all bossy when you found out that a single screw up could either result in you getting attacked by a obsessive lover, or get thrown out of here on your rear end with no one to protect you from the aforementioned obsessive lovers.

That and he trapped you into another  IOU five minutes ago that might bite you in the ass later. You can't afford to get into any trouble. With Crowley, with the teachers, with the other dorm leaders, the other students. And Grim....is also someone you need to keep yourself sane.

"Pout about it all you want, Grim." You remove him from the net, holding him against your hip like he’s a troublesome toddler so he doesn't run away again. You turn to Ace and Deuce, and smile softly, "Thanks, you guys."

Again, that light returns in both their eyes. Ace smiles mischievously and slings his arm over the two of you in a half hug, "Glad to help clean up the mess made by the worst prefect to ever set foot on campus!"

"It wasn't that bad, Ace. Let her go! Like the last time, Deuce pulls Ace's arm off of you. The two glare at each other, as if silently fighting. Unlike Ace, Deuce tends to respect your personal space only ever doing this when Ace gets too touchy or too close. That and he always tries to defend you when Ace or anyone else teases you. Maybe it really is in your best interest to get closer to Deuce.

"Alright you two, we're gonna be late. Our next class is...." Aw man, it's Arithmancy. No wonder Grim ran off. You say such and Ace groans.

At least they can't censor this class, too. A part of you would like it if they did.

"C'mon, let's not get caught 'skipping' class."

On the way back, you wonder about the man you ran into. Now that you thought about it, he never gave you his name. And you gave him yours immediately, damn it!

Still, the likelihood that he was a yandere for you was too unrealistic. Sure, Ace and Deuce might have budding feelings for you, but the likelihood that four different people were all yandere for you was already rare, even for this world.

Besides, you've already met some people with a lot of character today. So maybe he's just a little weird.

Maybe. Hopefully.

Wait, if he didn’t know who you were.....how did he know that your next class was Arithmancy?

"Woo! Lunchtime at last!" You can't mirror the excitement Grim is feeling right now, even if this a refuge from the classroom confusion from earlier. The cafeteria's as full as ever, and you feel different from the last time you entered it.

Last time, you were surrounded by your fellow students and peers. This time, you're surrounded by the human equivalent of sheep among wolves.

You are the ideal prey of everyone in this room, and some of them might already know about that. Cater's words earlier had terrified you and rang back in your head, "Darling~" You hadn't even known him long, so how could he tell? Would everyone around you just know on sight? Maybe they discovered it before you had?

Still, you skipped breakfast for Ace's apology, so you don't really get the luxury of skipping another meal right now. Even if you don't exactly have an appetite. Despite the volume of delicious smelling food, Grim is piling on your tray, and you feel more like puking than eating.

Even so, you don't really have an appetite right now, despite all the good smelling food that Grim's raving about right now. It's fancy, and Grim doesn't even eat half of it but is piling it up all the same. Can cats even eat onions?

"Shh! Dude, inside voices! Where was this energy earlier today?" You nod in agreement with Ace. Your legs already hurt from PE, and now after chasing Grim, they practically burn.

"_____, grab me the grilled chicken! There's only one left! And an omelet, too. And that jelly-filled bread. Just fill your whole tray with 'em!" You struggle to balance the sheer amount of plates and food that Grim piles on one after the other. Seriously, how does one cat demon thing eat so much?!

"Grim, that's enough. Save some for everyone else!" You finally relent, but unfortunately, you made that decision a few seconds too late.

Your hand, already tired from Coach Vargas' class, finally yields, and you lose the grip on the tray and plates Grim's stomach piled up.

Now for the good news and bad news.

The good news is that you managed to save every plate of food Grim haphazardly stacked on your tray. A gew crumbs were lost, but otherwise, you managed to save everything. Which was great because with cheapskate Crowley's micro food budget, you were pretty strapped for cash and didn't want to waste food.

But then there's the bad news.

The bad news is in your haste to stop the mountain of plates from crashing to the ground and bringing more attention to yourself, your shoulder may have collided into the back of the student in front of you.

You were just getting into accidents today, weren’t you?

"Hey! Watch where you're goin'!" The student you were unlucky enough to bump into, and their buddy for some reason, to whirl around in anger.

"I'm so-" You start to apologize only for him to interrupt you.

"M-my carbonara!" Ah, man. Did you ruin someone's lunch? That's-,"You broke the yolk!".......what?

"Whoa, that's messed up! Pokin' the egg is the best part!" Ok, not ruining someone's lunch, he might be a bit sad, but all is o-

"You better make this right, pal!" He grabs you by your tie and you nearly fall with all the food on your tray.

"I-it's just a yolk?" Is all you can say, completely struck dumb. You already knew this world had it's priorities messed up but this had to be the dumbest argument ever made. "I didn't ruin your lunch, you were gonna poke it anyway, so I saved you a step!"

"Yeah, so get your filth hands of my henchman!" Grim backs you up. But the delinquents don't back down.

"I'm gonna need that grilled chicken of yours as compensation." Normally you probably would have let the guy take it. Let Grim learn a lesson of not carrying his own food and move on.

But this was a matter of principle, damn it!

Also you weren't completely sure if darlings were naturally meek, so backing down was not an option here.

"No." You say point blank. The delinquent stupid enough to fight in the middle of a crowded cafeteria balks like you said something incredulous, "What?!"

"You heard me. NO. Go eat your soggy yolk-y carbonara, while I go eat my grilled chicken." After all, that trouble you went to get this you were commandeering that chicken for yourself. Take that, Grim.

"Hey! That's no way to speak to an upperclassman! Catch me outside and I'll teach you some respect!" Alright, so just won't go outside for a few hours, got you there dumbass.

At this point, Deuce must have gone through the lunch line and caught sight of you. They must have heard the foregoing argument because Deuce steps in to play peacemaker, separating the delinquent from your tie and shielding you behind him. "Um, excuse me, sir, but it said int he handbook that fighting with magic was prohibited....."That's a rule?! Sick! Now you won't have to worry about tha-

"Fighting? You got it all wrong. This is just me helpin' an ignorant freshman know their place." Ok, so much for that. Two advance magic pens at hand, and you're forced to shrink behind Deuce and Grim.

"W-wait a second, I don't have any magic. That's an unfair fight." You hate how powerless you feel right now.

"Who care about that!? If I end end up killin' ya, we just gotta call one groundmen." You forgot about the whole 'murder is not bad' part of the school rules. Does that mean no one will intervene? Damn it again!

You can hear Deuce growl at their threat. Withdrawing his own pen, he shouts his signature, and by that you mean only, spell. Grim

For a student that probably knows one spell Deuce puts up a hell of a fight. You wonder where he's getting all the cauldrons from. The two 'upperclassman' must've been flunkies, because there was no way these people would be able to lose so badly and so easily to two people that barely know anything about offensive spells. Your one worry was the mountain of food you were holding would fall. That and hearing Ace grumble about not fighting. For your honour, for your praise, you'd didn't know. At this point, you're starting not to care.

Surprisingly, or not if it didn't, the battle is done and won without the hundreds of students present even hesitating in their respective conversations.

"Whoa, didn't know you had it in you...."

"Look, I'm gonna let you off the hook this time, but only 'cuz I don't want my pasta gettin' cold." Sure and it's not like you 'upperclassman' lost a cat and student who only knows how to summon a cauldron.

"Pffft! I knew you were all talk! You better hope I never see you again!" Grim taunts as if Deuce hadn't done nearly everything. You keep quiet this time, redirecting your silent fury into mocking.

"Whoa! Two upperclassmen being beaten by students who were nearly expelled in the first week. That's kinda sad." You mock as you watch two delinquents shrink back with their figurative tails between their legs, departing with their, hopefully, cold lunch.

"Thanks Deuce," You turn to him and say with a smile, and his earlier anger dissolves into a soft smile. Like you being grateful for his help and protection sucked the rage out of him. You hate that you know it wasn't as wholesome as it was on the tin.

"N-No problem," he stutters, cheeks flushing.

"Yeah, yeah enough of that." Ace grumbles, pulling Deuce away by his arm. His anger hadn't been pacified by Deuce's victory, in fact it worsened. If how deep he's frowning is any indication.

"If you guys are going to fight again, can you help me carry all this to a table?" It's been two days and their near constant warring over you is starting to become normal.

They snap out of it instantaneously, "Sure, Prefect!"

Grim had been bitter when you told him you were taking his grilled chicken as compensation for the mess he got you in. But he eventually relented to stuff his face with all the partially lukewarm food. Speaking of, the food's good if a bit cold.

Hearing Grim rave abut how good his food is makes you chuckle lightly, stroking your fingers back through Grim's fur. He purrs again, and that sense of peace from earlier return. Maybe this morning was just a fluke, and all will be well now.

Mid bite, Grim asks, " So, I saw your guys' dorm, but what are the other ones like?" A part of you wants to know but that's a question for another day. You need to get through today first, and then-

"I'm sure you're familiar with the statues of the Great Seven? Night Raven College has a dorm themed after each one." You choke mid bite on the half-chewed chicken in your mouth. Cater's voice took you by surprise, so much for a peaceful rest of the day. You weren't the only one.

"Bwah! You're that guy from this morning!"

You turn and face him as well as an unfamiliar face. Green hair, glasses and a clover stamp underneath his left eye. The last card suite you were left meet. Another card soldier, now just needed a tyrannical queen.

"You tricked us into paintin' those dumb roses."

"'Tricked' is such an ugly word. Do you think that I wanted to spend MY morning painting roses? It's dorm policy, I'm just following orders."

"And grinning like a fiend all the while..." More than that if what he last said too you was any indication.

"Now, now Deucey. Outside of the dorm, I don't care what rules you follow. Here, I'm just a friendly mentor figure." Like earlier, you feel that he isn't being genuine again. If his dorm is so full of people, why couldn't they help instead of trying to trick you into it. Still, brownie points are brownie points, and they better pay it forward when things get tough.

"Please. Do NOT call me Deucey."

The mystery man laughs, "That's how Cater shows he cares." he finally says. He gives of the air of that one dad friend that prevents the friend group from going up in flames. You feel a small pull at your heartstrings, you're starting to miss your friends back home.

"So, who are you?" You ask.

"Ah, i should introduce myself. The name's Trey. Trey Clover. I'm a junior at Heartslabyul, like Cater here." So you've finally met the three of clubs, or clovers if that's what you call it.

The ace of hearts, deuce of spades, three of clubs and four of diamonds, were ALL Heartslabyul students named after playing cards because this seems comical now. Also, how drunk were their parents to not recognise how ridiculously silly naming your kids after the numbers when their last names, sin Ace, are all card suites was.

Though considering the possibility that one half of their parents were probably being held hostage, you probably shouldn't judged their naming skills.

"And you must be _____, the new prefect from the dump of a-ah, I mean, the 'rustic' dorm." Ramshackle can't seem to stop catching strays, huh?

"Alright, Ramshackle might be a dump, but it's my dump. Can we please stop insulting where I sleep at night!" Your anger receives a few laughs in response. You hope you weren't a cute angry in their eyes. Last thing you need is them looking at you like you were an angry kitten.

Trey's laugh warms you a little, the dad friend energy feels a little safe. You don't feel the lingering worry from earlier, after all what is the likelihood more than three people are in love with you?

"I heard the whole story from Cater. Thanks for looking out for our boys yesterday." You beam, even if you were very, very inconvenienced last night and this morning, it's still nice to be praised. That is until you remember that the one doing it might find someone and spend the rest of their life making them miserable for the sake of love.

"It's no problem," You say regardless.

"I don't recall inviting you to sit with us...." You hear Ace murmur.

Cater slides in and seats himself between you and Ace, "Hey now, we're all from the same dorm, right? Let's try to get along. Here gimme your digits." He hands his phone to you, expecting you to put in your number.

Problem is, "I don't have a smartphone." and you probably wouldn't if you did. But regardless Cater looks at you as if you grew another head.

"For real?! I never thought I'd meet one of you IRL!" His eyes light up with that weird glow again, "I know a place that sells the latest models cheap. How about you and I go on a phone-shopping date?" NO. NO.

"NO!" You accidentally say out loud, way too loud and hurried to be brushed aside as you overestimating your volume. Some heads from nearby tables turn, to you and the others are silent waiting for something? But you don't know what.

You back track trying to amend what you said, " No, Crowley hasn't started giving me allowance yet, so I'm kinda broke. Maybe next time?" Please never ask me that again. Maybe you should join a club so you can say you're busy if he tries to ask you out again.

That glint in Cater's eyes darken, but it doesn't match the teasing look that he has on his face, "What is up with you, _____? You look so tense! It's okay, baby! Relax! Relaaaax!" He squeezes your shoulders in half-massage but it just makes you feel more tense.

Tret comes to your rescue, "Cater. You're freaking out the freshmen. Maybe take it down a notch?"

Cater laughs, still not backing away from how close he is to you, "Sorry! I can get a little extra sometimes. What were we talking about....The dorms, yeah? What fun to mentor new students. Go ahead, A-M-A."

Ant that what you all spent the next fifteen minutes talking about. The dorms and their super important history while completely ignoring the ramifications of that history have on at least half of the population, yourself included. You'd already read up on the seven dorms, but hearing about the crazy strictness of the Dorm Leader of Heartslabyul made you a little uneasy. But still, when you talk to the him maybe things will go well, maybe he's a sweetheart with a non-tolerance policy for the most extreme of rule breakers.

Still, there are so many different types of students with different personalities and different yandere types. You spotted a wolf beastman, two student whose style of dress reminded you vaguely of the Middle East the person you ran into earlier sitting at a table full of Pomefiore students, (you made a mental note to ask about him later) and the most powerful students on campus, of course from Diasomnia.

Cater continues his opinion piece in the unapproachability of that dorm. "The vibe they give off makes it real hard for regular schmucks like us to even approach them."

"It can't be that bad, they may look a little intimidating but otherwise they look like regular old students..." You say, sure one of them looks young enough to be your younger brother or a middle schooler and has the pointed ears of a fae, but they look so normal.

Then again, you were discussing animal-human hybrids and talking paintings earlier, and you're in a world full of yanderes, so what isn't normal and what is?

"And their Dorm Leader is that times a thousand." You crane your neck to the Diasomnia seating area and you don't see any features that would be capable of scaring off a whole school of students, they all look relatively fine.

"There's a little kid in that group!" Not so subtly, like their earlier pointing out of a rather androgenous purple-haired boy in the Pomefiore dining areas, Ace rather loudly points out the younger looking fae.

"Ah, we do get some child prodigies here. But that guy is no kid. He's a junior like us. Name's -"

"Lilia. Lilia Vanrouge."

"Ah!" You yelp rather loudly as midway through your turn back towards the table, only to be face to face with the same face you had just been looking at hanging upside down right in front of you. You nearly fell out of chair in a mix of shock and surprise.

You stammer in shock, "H-how did you-"

"H-he just teleported!" That can happen?! You really need to read more about this place.

Lilia, once standing upside down on the chandelier as if that was completely A-OK, floats down onto your table as if this was as normal as him walking over. He smirks, bending down to meet your eyes, " I understand my apparent age interests you? As this bespectacled fellow accurately noted..." His voice is completely opposite to his appearance, and he talks like a whimsical grandparent than a teenager. "Despite my fresh-faced, boyish good looks, it would be inaccurate to call me a 'child'." Yeah, seriously. Whoa.

"'Fresh-faced' he says." Trey seems to agree with your doubt on the young part.

He smiles and for some reason, you feel unbelievably uncomfortable. it's as if he read you like an open book without words being exchanged. The look in his eyes is unreadable, but it's not like the glint you'd seen in Ace, Deuce and Cater. Either way, it makes you squirm in your seat, "You need not gawk at us from afar. You may feel free to speak with us directly. We are schoolmates, are we not? All of us at Diasomnia House welcome you without reservation." Without reservation, he says and yet the two trailing after him are yet to say a word. And they're staring in silence, but it feels more like glaring. No wonder Diasomnia had the reputation it did.

"And yet, those guys over there aren't exactly rolling out the red carpet in terms of approachability..."

Lilia brushes that aside with a laugh, "Forgive me for appearing above you during your meal." I do hope we can speak again." Why does that part feel directed at you? Maybe you're being paranoid.

As Lilia and his entourage depart, Ace takes the opportunity to whisper to the table about the impossible feat of overhearing their conversation. Which you can agree with how on Earth, or in the Twisted Wonderland, did they hear you from across the room. You weren't even that loud. Ace was right, that was creepy.

"Well....Diasomnia House does have a bit of a reputation for having lots of special students." "Well, special is a word for it...." You say,

Trey explains further, "Some of them are extremely talented at magic. Their Dorm Leader, Malleus Draconia, is considered to be one of the five best mages in the world." Wow. Your decision to stay away from that Dorm was even more justified. How powerful is the top five most powerful.

"Malleus is reeeeeeal bad news. Though I suppose the same could be said of our dear Dorm Leader."

"He can't be that bad...." You whisper, spying a short, red-haired boy with grey eyes walking in this direction. Wait, wasn't that the dorm leader that.....collared...Grim...Oh no. "Hey Ace...?" You whisper.

Ace must not have heard you because he starts his own tirade. "No kidding! He collared me for eating one slice of tart! All his rule obsession is outta control!"

"My 'rule obsession' is 'outta control', is it?" Well, Ace is doomed. Maybe Ramshackle has a tent you can set up outside.

Completely oblivious to the new voice that joined the group, despite the fact everyone else here already has, Ace continues, " You bet it is. Riddle's just a petty tyrant who leans into the whole 'rules' schtick as a pretext to keep everyone under his puny thumb." You sigh, facepalming. Maybe you can get Crowley to buy a strong lock for your door.

Deuce takes one for the group and points out the obvious before Ace can unintentionally piss off the 'tyrant' behind him further. "Ace! Behind you!"

Ace, still not taking the hint, looks behind him and then appropriately freaks out. "Bwah!? Dorm Leader!" The Dorm Leader of Heartslaybul, Riddle Rosehearts (and the Red Queen in this abridged tale) crosses his arms in indignation.

This is not going to go well.

[written-in-flowers]

Do you think you could write something where Aegon fingers future sister wife (sister betrothed?) during their lessons with a Maester or Septa 💚💕

Pairing: Aegon ii x Targ!reader 

Words: 1k

Warnings: vaginal fingering, dry humping, underage sex stuff, hand-jobs. 

Lessons are Boring

You’d always been the attentive one during lessons. Maester Ryle oversaw the education of the prince and princesses of House Targaryen for two or three generations. A wrinkled old man with a few thin white hairs on his head, his maester’s robe hung loosely on his body and his chains clinked together when he walked. Due to his bad knees and hips, Maester Ryle often sat during the lessons and pointed at things on his board with a walking stick. This meant, he could hardly see over the other side of the table where the children sat in front of him. This meant, while Aemond, Helaena and you took notes and answered his questions, Aegon’s hand could slide onto your lap without him noticing.

"-The Faith of the Seven and the High Septon have often been at odds with House Targaryen and The Crown as a whole. It was only upon the ascension of King Jaehaerys that these bonds were finally mended,” said the old maester from his seat, “Can any of you tell me how this was achieved? Ah, Prince Aemond, yes.”

“King Jaehaerys refused to reinstate the Swords and Stars of the Faith, and removed the bounties King Maegor put on the heads of Warrior’s Sons and Poor Fellows. He then gave a white cloak to Ser Joffrey Doggett, who’d been part of the band of Warrior’s Sons, and he accepted it,” Aemond told him. “He swore to The Faith that The Crown will always protect and defend them from then on. It has been such ever since.”

“Indeed,” Maester Ryle nodded in approval.

You’d been listening to Maester Ryle go on about the history between their family and the followers of The Seven when a warm hand touched your knee. Looking over, you saw Aegon smirking. You stared down to see his hand sliding up and down your thigh slowly. Due to the tablecloth, Maester Ryle could not see the prince’s hand lifting your skirt inch by inch over your knees. You bit back a gasp as his bare fingertips grazed your flesh, smoothing over the curves and dips. The gentle touch made your toes curl inside your shoes; your thighs tensed at the sudden brush, and a warmth spread between your legs. Fingertips lightly dragging up and down your inner thigh, Aegon waited until you’d bitten your bottom lip to slide further up. The side of his hand pushed right up to your naked sex, he gripped the side tenderly to make you whimper.

“-Now, Queen Alyssa and her husband feared the marriage of Jaehaerys to his sister, Alysanne, might cause-Princess?”

He’d heard her. Damn the man. Aegon snickered softly but you merely stammered, “N-N-Nothing, Maester. Please, go on.” You turned your head and said low as possible, “Aegon…”

“What? This is boring,” he replied, doing the same.

You turned your attention to the lesson, while Aegon’s fingers made their way to your sex once more. His index finger sliding between your folds, his other two fingers kept them open while he used his index finger to tease the pearl they covered. The direct contact and unrelenting friction had you clenching your jaw and doing your best to stay firmly planted in your seat. Helaena, far too busy watching an ant crawl across her book, didn’t notice what was going on. Maester Ryle continued going on about history while Aemond listened and wrote notes. Soon, wetness began pooling there and Aegon took the chance to spread it over your lips and the hood of your clitoris. He let his fingers grind into your entrance, feeling your walls starting to flutter at their touch and making you grip your own book. It reminded you of the other day when you’d slipped your hand into his breeches during a ball, stroking him to completion and sending him into euphoria in a room full of people. You should’ve known he’d try getting back at you. He continued languidly rolling his two fingers around your clit, tracing the edges of the folds and dipping right beneath the nub to make you squeak. Any other time, he’d have you falling apart, especially if he used his tongue which he’d gotten so much better at. But now, you needed to keep yourself together or your mother will be hearing about it.

She still hadn’t forgotten what you’d done on the window ledge.

"-Can any of you tell me which house is closest to the Faith? Princess Y/N, would you care to guess?”

“Yes, dear sister,” Aegon smiled at you, “Which house is it? I forget.”

“Well, dear brother,” you replied without moaning, “It’s House Hightower, our mother’s family.”

“Ah, right. Yes, of course.”

“That is correct. House Hightower has maintained a very healthy relationship with the Faith for many generations…”

You didn’t hear how they maintained that relationship because once Aegon slipped a finger inside you, you nearly let out a moan which you disguised as a cough. His palm continuously rubbing against your clit while his finger pumped into you, you felt every single shiver of pleasure course through you. You wished more than anything you could drag him somewhere private in the library and let him finish you as he should. You already knew everything you needed to know about the various religions of the world and their importance to people. When Aegon added a second finger, you knew you were doomed. The boy had a way of making you weak without trying too hard. Not that you didn’t have the same effect on him in return.

He kept the pace slow and almost lazy, withdrawing his fingers slowly and pushing them back in tenderly. He couldn’t go much faster without the old man noticing his arm. It didn’t help that whenever you came close to orgasm, he stopped suddenly. The agony became far too much; the room suddenly felt hot and the need in you became far too ravenous to focus on anything else. Thankfully, the maester ended the lesson after he finished telling you all about The Faith of the Seven. He said they’d all talk about the royal progresses of the Old King and his queen next time. You nodded, and took a cackling Aegon by the hand. You didn’t stop walking until you reached his bed chambers, where you threw him onto his bed. Quickly, you untied his breeches while he worked on unbuttoning the front of your gown. Having access to your breasts, Aegon’s lips latched around them and suckled firmly while you withdrew his cock. You never put him inside, but you enjoyed rubbing your soaked pussy over his length until you both came.

And that’s what you did. You dragged your sex up and down his hard shaft and leaking head while he licked and teased your sensitive nipples. It did not take long for either of you to cum. Your parts exposed to one another and your passion burning hot, you didn’t hold back this time. Clutching the pillows underneath his head, your orgasm hit you hard. Thighs quivering and your body tensing all over, you humped Aegon’s cock until your clit became overstimulated by him. Aegon grabbed your ass and kept you still as he went along with you and came over his stomach. Cheeks red, hair spread over the pillows, and utter satisfaction on his face, Aegon always looked so beautiful after an orgasm. He looked beautiful all the time, even if others thought otherwise. Panting, you rested on top of him for a while, kissing and whispering words of love to one another.

“Thank god Maester Ryle is old and can’t walk,” you said, chuckling, “I’d hate to think of what he’d tell Mother is he’d seen us.”

“The same thing everyone else says,” he put on his best quavering tone as he said, “The young Prince Aegon and Princess Y/N were being rather inappropriate during their lesson this morning, Your Grace. It is behavior unbefitting a noble child. They must be put in proper order right away.”

“That is more or less what he told me.”

Her voice made you both jump apart, and cover yourselves. Your mother stood by the foot of the bed, arms crossed and disappointment on her face once again. She stared at you both for a moment, and shame immediately hit you. You truly should’ve conducted yourself in a more proper manner.

“Just because Maester Ryle is old doesn’t mean he is a fool,” she said, sighing. “Tell me you at least didn’t put it in.”

“He didn’t,” you shook your head. “He never does. I don’t let him.”

“Must you two behave this way? Think about the shame it brings on you both.”

“She’ll be my wife one day,” Aegon said, pulling his sheets over his crotch. “They should be happy the prince and princess show a healthy passion for one another. It implies that we’ll produce children….someday….”

Your mother took these words into consideration, “I suppose you’re right…but please, have some decency and do it behind closed doors. I am sick of hearing from everyone about the things they find you two doing. It is not something a mother wishes to hear.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Yes, we’re sorry, Mother.”

You watched her leave, then turned to each other as the door closed. Bursting into a fit of giggles, you both fell back on the bed and shared a soft kiss. “At least she didn’t scream this time,” you noted, letting him kiss down your neck.

“At least there’s that, yes,” he said, voice muffled by your skin. “Take off your dress,” he said, coming back up to kiss you, “I wish to see the rest of you.”

“Did you not just hear our mother?”

“Yes, I heard her say ‘do it behind closed doors’,” he then pointed to the door, “It’s closed and we’re behind it.” He knelt between your legs and lifted your leg. Kissing your inner thigh, he started untying the ribbons holding your stockings, “So, if you’ll indulge me, my sweet princess, I’d like us to spend the day drinking and pleasuring each other in any way we possibly can.”

“Hm,” you said thoughtfully, “I suppose you are right, my prince. That sounds like a wonderful idea.”

You slid further down the bed to reach his shirt. Your day was certainly going uphill after a boring lesson.

[arkhammaid]

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ THE LIGHTNING ON TRACK | THE STRATEGY CALL

fandom. formula one & mcu

about. in which the stark racing f1 team talks about the 2025 strategy and beyond

content warnings. written in 3rd person

word count. 1.4k words

notes. with this chapter i wanted to involve a bit of politics and 'realistically' explain why stark racing won't immediately win a wdc (because with the whole set up, it would be possible). f1 are politics and no matter how many drivers say cash is king, connections have sometimes more worth

"welcome, everyone. thank you for tuning in", greets tony with a big smile on his face, spreading his arms as if going in for a hug.

"as you can see, i'm not currently with any departement, i'm doing the finishing touches in my own lab back in new york... since i don't want to drag anyone here to the US for meetings, we will proceed like this until january next year."

"now, i know it will be annoying with dragging your equipement with you and it's also unsafe, since you know... data secrets bla bla- so, in the next few days, each stark racing employee will receive the so called 'tactical intelligence glasses', which you can see me wearing. it's voice activated and can only be used by the one who sets it up, which will be you!" while speaking, tony fiddles with a pencil in his hand and starts walking around in his lab, showcasting it to every viewer.

"to cut things short, you'll receive a tutorial on how to use these glasses and set them up once you receive them. if you ever lose them, don't worry, we can track them. destroying them is pretty hard, but please don't try to make it a challange... our plan is to use them not only during meetings but also during the race, to keep our data from the cameras. with netflix, paparazzi and other cameras from the news, it's easy to steal data that shouldn't be accessible."

"alright then", he ends his ramblings with a clap, "we're going over the interesting part now. let's talk strategy..."

y/n let's her father's voice wash over her, her own glasses perched on her nose and feeding her constant information. in front of her are two holograms, projected by the hologram table in the meeting room she's currently in. the standing figure of her father and the presentation he's currently rattling off, all of it in a glowing blue.

next to her sits kevin, her future teammate, exhausted from the long 24 season but still paying attention. the rest of the room is filled with their team, the race engineers and trainers- each of them having their own glasses on.

to outsiders it looks like they're clowns, but it's a common sight in stark industries. decades ahead of the general public, stark stands for the future. of course they're trying to push it to the outer world, selling hologrammic equipement to both the industry but also private customers, but it's a slow progress.

the marketing team of SI hopes with their public use of the glasses and other devices they'll attract more customers, leaving the age of apple and samsung behind and instead welcoming the age of holograms. powered by starkanium, the production of phones, tablets, computers- anything really, is much cheaper and enviroment friendly than what's currently dominating the market.

shaking her head, y/n focuses on the presentation again. of course she knows it by heart already, she helped writing it, brooding over the strategy with the team ever since the team got announced.

"... the plan is to finish between 5th-3rd on the construction championship. not higher, not lower. we don't want to place higher, because this is our testing season. we will be practically sandbagging from the beginning, not revealing our true power for 2026."

yes... the construction championship. it will bring in money, not that they would need it, but it will justify the expenses they're going to make during the season to prepare for their second one. y/n is under no illusion, if they want, they could go all out and snag at least p2, if not p1. maybe she would even get her world championship- only then for everyone to say she won because she's driving a stark machine and not because of her own skill.

it sounds arrogant, she knows. but y/n believes, no, she doesn't only believe, she knows, she is one of the best in the whole world. if she can go against her father in an iron man suit, who can be only piloted by less than ten people in the world... winning in an f1 car is nothing.

but they've already made enemies for not waiting until 2026 like audi, 'enemies', who have much more pull within the motorsport world than them, simply because they're already established. christian horner is one, followed by toto wolff, the iconic red racing team not far behind.

with they're entry, they didn't make friends on the paddock, so for their first season... they can't be too good. or else their future seasons will be ruined.

it's stupid, to think like this, to think so far ahead, to think of others, in a sport where winning is everything. but it's not. cash and connections influence everything you do, how far you succeed. they have plenty of money, but are practically poor in connections. heck, even haas is better established than them.

they won't be, not after they're done after their first season. they will show the world, what stark racing is truly made of. and y/n will prove, that a woman can win.

"-bought data packs from previous seasons, dating back a whole decade, from mercedes and aston martin. cost a pretty penny, but data is everything. not to mention, after the big leak that happend in the middle of the season, we managed to grab enough data on all teams to calculate 3523 outcomes to this season. points, standings, anything." kevin wheezes at the number, which is followed by several data sheets. he gapes at the calculations, which predict another world championship for max 2064 times. all from the data they managed to collect.

"insane, right?", y/n whispers to kevin, who turns his head to her. his wide eyes make her snicker.

"welcome to stark racing, mate. just you wait until JARVIS and FRIDAY start feeding in new numbers and information." a muttered 'holy shit' is the only answer she gets and y/n has to snicker again. toto wolff once said something about formula one being war planning... well, he should know that stark industries and it's most brilliant minds know everything about war. be it on the market, by income or an actual alien invasion.

"we want to achieve at least one win, be it in a proper race or sprint, three podiums per driver and at least two fastest laps. and it will be possible", her father continues, pointing at a hologram of their car. it spins lazily in a circle, showing off it's aeorodynamic curves.

"this car is faster than the rb19, goes on par with the rb20. we don't know the upgrades from red bull, but another year and we can pretty much predict their stats for 2026. newey is predictable, all his upgrades point towards the perfection of the car, he focuses on what to make better and not invent something completely new. and if he does, he takes ages to prove it's better than what they had before. newey is brilliant, but he's no stark." there it is again, the facts of their rivals, taken apart and put back together to summerize their data in a few simple words.

"so, our motto for this season is testing, collecting data and improving for the next season. we're sandbagging, we're restricting ourselves. so if we ever do bad... we all know we could do much better. the engineering team will send first comparisons between the SR-1 and SR-2 out next week, y/n has already tested both cars in the sim, so we will have some data to read off."

"so, with that, we're pretty much done. thank you everyone for listening, i know for some it's very early right now, so if you have to read over the spark notes- JARVIS has put a summary of the most important information together, you'll receive the mail right after this converence. thank you again and welcome to stark racing, everyone!" claps fill the room and y/n takes off her glasses. it's exhausting to play mindgames like this, to calculate the desired outcome, but it will all come together.

hopefully, with her as a world champion, with the bold stark name on her back.

taglist. @lilypadlover , @adorablezhui , @peqch-pie , @keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel , @aimixx , @themercyverse , @lem-hhn , @akiraquote , @kiiyoooo , @nichmeddar , @nothingfuninthislife , @minkyungseokie , @fionaschicken , @lyrasconstellation , @spideybv28 , @keii134 , @starssfall , @tpwkstiles, @fangirl-dot-com , @nichmeddar , @lady-laura-speaks , @nikfigueiredo , @hinamesgigantica , @brakingboundaries , @almostjollypizza , @yoremins , @raizelchrysanderoctavius , @celesteblack08 , @watermelon-sugars-things , @lighttsoutlewis , @radiantdanvers , @vellicora, @sterredem , @hiireadstuff , @jolixtreesunn , @mypage-myfandoms , @nelly187 @greeneyesandsunshine , @fulla02 , @welovediaaxx , @whyamireadingthis , @67-angelofthelordme-67 , @blueberry64857959 , @winchesterwife27 , @six-call , @skywalker1dream , @mellowarcadefun , @cherry-piee , @peterholland04 , @motorsportloverf1 , @renarots , @msbyjackal , @woozarts , @leclucklerc , @yl90

crossed off tags mean i can't tag you!

DO YOU WANT TO JOIN THE SERIES TAGLIST? please leave a comment on this post or send a non anonymous ask!

ARKHAM MAID 2024

[viperixsworld]

Born to die

━━ Benjicot Blackwood x oc

Chapther one : the riverwoman

Year 126 A.C.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Sometimes, Lucrezcia thought to herself how easy it would be to escape. The Arbor was an island wonderfully connected to practically the entire world known to man. Volantis seemed like a good destination, all she needed was a ship, of which she had thousands at her disposal.

But there were several factors that deprived her of such a plan. First, her father was as tenacious as she was, and would find her and drag her back so that he could marry her off to whomever he offered.

The second, and at that moment more important, Lucreczia was sitting in a carriage, on her way to her first audience with her possible future husband. Her father, sitting opposite her, seemed to be trying to ignore her by any means possible. Lucrezcia, for her part, tried to annoy him, making noises with her rings.

"Could you, my child, stop being a nuisance for a few moments?"

The girls stopped her movements, to offer a sarcastic smile to her father.

"Oh, excuse me dearest father, it must be pre-marital nerves".

"Are you always so unbearable?"

I have someone to look like

But she preferred to swallow her words. Lunch with Lord Tarly's niece had been most victorious for her lord father. Julianna Tarly was a slender and tremendously young girl, no older than Lucrezcia herself. The young Redwyne found her stepmother-to-be irritating and exceedingly sordid. A childish girl who could compete in immaturity with her nearly five-year-old sister.

The irony of the gods, he was getting rid of a daughter to return to a wife who might be confused by one of his offspring.

Luckily for her, she would not have to put up with the new Lady of the Arbor, as she would be married by then in any corner of the fucking continent.

Honeyholt was the home of the Beesbury house, sworn to the Hightowers. With their lord at King's Landing as part of King Viserys Targaryen's council, it was Lady Beesbury, who had kindly offered to host the court. Not out of charity, of course, but out of business with one of the richest houses in all of Westeros. Lucrezcia was just a pawn, just like in her father's chessboard.

The Reach was undoubtedly a beautiful place, filled with flowers of all kinds and palaces that looked like something out of a book about knights in shining armour. Lady Beesbury greeted them at the entrance, an elderly, petite woman with an unbridled taste for pie and tartlets. Lucrezcia tried to smile and look delighted at the auction of her person to a bunch of usurious lords, as the old woman led her into the garden where the tea was to be held.

They say that you are not aware of your destiny until it is staring you in the face.

That's how Lucrezcia felt when she set foot in the garden, becoming the centre of everyone's attention. It seemed that they had deliberately arrived early, to make her entrance more conspicuous. Pairs of eyes scrutinised her as if she were one of the cakes on the table.

So far, the trip had served to psych her up, but the possibility that her future husband might be among these men made her want to vomit horribly.

"Cheer up, dear, they're watching you," her father's voice echoed behind her.

Fuck off

A strange tingling settled in her spine. She approached the small table with the cakes, while her father stood talking to some men in pompous clothes.

Lucrezcia contemplated that apart from herself, the only other woman at the soiree was the elderly Lady Beesbury (except for the maids who went to and fro). The rest were men. Tall, thin, short, fat, ornately dressed, full of jewels. With the balance on the side of men of her father's generation rather than her own.

She wondered if her mother suffered such a thing, being from the Iron Islands, they probably put her on a ship straight to the Arbor in a wedding dress and called it a day.

She didn't know if it was worse than what she was going through at that moment.

"My lady"

Lucrezcia gobbled down the raspberry pastry in her hand before turning to the person who spoke to her.

A short, chubby man with a terrible grey moustache and little hair in the centre of his head, he took the hand that previously held a pastry and planted a kiss on the back of her hand.

"My name is Lord Daryl Florent"

She watched him wordlessly, chewing the pastry exaggeratedly. Lord Florent began to talk about his life, still holding her hand. When the man stopped talking, seeing that the girl did not answer, he said to her.

"You would be prettier if you smiled."

A spark lit up the girl's eyes. She tugged at the corners of her mouth, preparing a flamboyant smile. A smile that showed all her teeth covered in the raspberry filling of the pastry.

Lord Florent made no secret of his displeasure as he let go of the young woman's hand and walked indignantly towards another group of men watching the interaction.

Preach the word, fatty.

The afternoon was summed up in a series of frustrated attempts by different men to approach her in an attempt to woo her. When the man was old to begin with, her tactic was to be disgusting, play with food and make comments that implied she was a woman with ideas.

When they tried to elicit information about her interests, Lucrezcia didn't bother to lie. She liked to hunt, enjoyed wine and ale (no surprise, being the daughter of the leading exporter of ale in all of Westeros), could barely do needlework, and was very interested in the political situation in the realm.

Most did not endure up to that point in the conversation, but the few who did, asked the golden question.

"And you are an avid reader from what your father says. What is the last book you read, my lady?"

"A caution for young girls, my lord"

That used to be the final strike.

Who wants a wife who reads about sex with the intention of self-pleasure rather than to give heirs?

With the many horrified looks from the gentlemen, Luther could only resist the urge to slap his daughter in the middle of the garden.

Night fell upon them, and Lady Beesbury invited them into Honeyholt's great hall. Lucrezcia watched as less than half of the large crowd of men who had been there at the beginning of the evening remained. It was clear that the great hall table was almost empty, apart from Lady Beesbury, her father, herself and some nine suitors.

The food was extremely sweet for her taste. The girl chewed in silence as her lord father spoke to the few remaining men.

Unfortunately for her, most of them were old men who had not succumbed to her tactics. She was very bored. The dress of salmon-coloured fabric was particularly itchy, the belt of thick golden thread cut off her circulation. The hairstyle that Nyssa had done for her this morning was pulling at her brain cells.

The kingdom was in the springtime, according to the maesters. The Reach's crops were thriving, but Lucrezcia wished at the moment that everything would freeze over. At the very least, for a breeze to blow. She felt like she was in the middle of Dorne's Red Desert.

In those moments of desperation, she considered faking a fainting spell. She could pour some wine over herself, lie on the floor and hope that her father would get fed up with this fanfare and decide to return to his island.

Oh, her island. Lucrezcia had always dreamed of leaving it, but now she missed it more than anything. The walks through the vineyards, going to the Ryamsport harbour market to watch the seafarers' festivals, skinny-dipping on the beach with Nyssa at an hour her father hadn't allowed.

Even her palace on the cliffs of the Arbor, right by Starfish Harbor. The library's stained glass windows, its chambers overlooking the sea, the passageways to the kitchens and stables where she could go out with her pack of hounds.

How she missed her puppies.

She hoped to transport them to wherever she was getting married.

The last litter had been of 8 puppies, 5 of which survived. Now with the perfect age and training for a good hunt. They were fast and strong, they could tear a fox apart in a few seconds.

Surely their dogs were more loyal than all these men sitting at the table. She wondered if she could use them as bait for her little puppies. As a form of training.

Nah, they'd be too easy prey.

In her reverie, Lucrezcia ignored the doors to the great hall and it was not until Lady Beesbury rose from her seat at the end of the table to greet the new visitors.

"My Lady Blackwood, what a surprise, I was not expecting you yet."

That made the Redwyne girl look up from her plate of gooseberry duck. The sight stunned her.

A tall, slender but athletic woman with a cascade of obsidian-black hair curling like tornadoes. Behind her, six men, all somewhat rough-looking, dressed in the same clothes as her. Riding clothes, black and crimson.

The men looked hungry, staring at the bloody roast duck as if they hadn't eaten in days. They reminded her of her dogs, waiting attentively at the woman's command.

"I hope I have not interrupted with our entry" said the woman "We have a long drive to Oldtown and Lord Beesbury had offered us accommodation for the night".

Lady Beesbury did not look very pleased, but she could do nothing against her husband's orders.

"Well... I guess you may sit down, please, please, you must be starving" said the old lady.

Lucrezcia sent an amused glance at her father, who looked tense but intrigued as Lady Blackwood's men swept through the feast.

"And tell me, Lady Blackwood. What is your business so far from the Riverlands?" asked her father, sipping from his wine glass.

"Our maester fell ill a couple of moons ago. We were travelling to the Citadel to request reinforcements at Raventree Hall. My Lord Brother sent me on his behalf".

"I understand" said her father.

As the rivermen gulped, Alyssane looked at her father.

"And what are you doing, Lord...?"

"Lord Redwyne" interrupted Lady Beesbury "Lord Redwyne of the Arbor and his daughter, Lady Lucrezcia, are here as my guests, as are all these distinguished gentlemen".

Black Aly surveyed the table, the distinguished gentlemen looking rather uncomfortable at the presence of her men. She then looked at the girl in the salmon-coloured dress. Lucrezcia felt a little self-conscious, but smiled at the new guest. She smiled back.

The woman from the Riverlands could not be more than ten years older than her. And she was not stupid. The picture was so obvious that asking the question was totally unnecessary.

The dinner went as smoothly as possible. With the suitors gradually withdrawing as Lucrezcia's father and Lady Alyssane had an arduous conversation about the politics and succession of the realm, with the recent birth of Prince Joffrey.

Lucrezcia learned there that the Blackwoods were a Riverlands family of considerable prestige, the only one in their lands to practice the religion of the Old Gods. Lord Luther had long sought to expand into the interior of the continent, exporting mostly to coastal cities.

Any occasion is good for business, Lucrezcia supposed.

Her maid, Nyssa, was quick to come and fetch her as the hour of the wolf approached. As did Lady Beesbury.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Lady Lucrezcia," Alyssane said goodbye. "I had hoped that tomorrow we might be able to breakfast together in the gardens, if Lady Beesbury sees fit for your... matchmaking".

The old woman didn't seem to agree, but after the disaster with her first twenty suitors, she figured that giving the girl the morning off would be a good idea.

"The pleasure was all mine, Lady Alyssane," said the girl before following Lady Beesbury and Nyssa to her chambers.

Once the girl was out, only Lord Luther, Black Aly and an empty jug of wine were left in the hall.

"She is a beautiful girl, you are very lucky, Lord Redwyne," congratulated the woman.

Luther wanted to laugh in her face. Yes, his third daughter was beautiful, a light brown-haired beauty with huge green eyes, a fine face and a pretty composition.

"She'd make an ideal wife, if she wasn't a problem with legs." The man began as Lady Alyssane listened " The girl is the smartest of my four daughters, and the most ambitious. Nine septas she has cost me in less than four years, they say she is incorrigible" the man massaged his temple "I had hoped a husband would soothe her spirit" he lamented.

In his deepest dreams, Luther regretted that Lucrezcia was not a man. She would have been the perfect heir, but sadly the laws and her own opinions deprived her of that status.

Luther had to marry off his daughter. That was the custom and the law.

Black Aly listened with attention, scheming in her own mind.

Lucrezcia reminded her of herself, a young woman who just wanted her place in the world. Though Aly had been luckier in the family, from what she was hearing. While her father described his third with a mixture of resentment and pride, as she noticed, the girl did not remind him only of her.

A highly intelligent, cool-headed young noble who enjoyed risk but knew how to keep her composure. She couldn't help but compare her to her own nephew.

Benjicot Blackwood had just turned six and ten, a year younger than Lucrezcia. The boy was proper and somewhat shy among his own kind, but lately quarrels with the Brackens had him in a mess, hanging out with his grooms at the tavern, brawling and neglecting his lessons.

He needed to wise up.

He needed a new goal.

He needed a wife. Her brother, and father of the boy, Lord Samwell Blackwood, had tried to bring up the subject several times, perhaps this was the right occasion.

"I believe, my lord, that I can offer clarity on our problems," the woman commented. "My own nephew, Benjicot Blackwood, future Lord Blackwood and heir to Raventree Hall, may stand as a suitor for your daughter," she explained.

Luther seemed to sober up suddenly. It was a good way to make contacts with the Riverlands, as well as sending his daughter far away.

"How much do you want for her?"

He knew it wasn't smart to send it to the first person who would offer. But she had been on the marriage market for years and nothing. It was a golden opportunity, both for him and for Blackwood.

"I shall write to my brother first thing tomorrow morning. He will discuss with you the details of the dowry, the wedding and so on".

"As tempting as it sounds, I know my daughter, she is capable of galloping away if I promise her to a complete stranger who has never seen her life".

"And for that, my lord" Black Aly leaned her elbows on the table to approach the lord in front of her and say "She'll think it's her idea".

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

tag list: @erysione @asteria33 @shifter-101 @drwho-ess

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 14

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: Another work week :(

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Not long after the king’s departure, Lord Jaskier excuses himself to see to his horse. Queen Jazlene sends him off with a similar quip about serious matters. You don’t quite understand her. She should be concerned with the weeks of travel ahead of her, not only of the time, but of the climate. 

She finishes the bottle on her own. Much of it went to her cup. You think of warning her but it isn’t your place. You can only watch her head wobble as that hazy look softens her features. On her last gulp, a droplet trickles down her chin. You suspect she might be as unhappy as her husband claimed of himself the previous night. They make a rather sad pairing. 

It’s early still. Perhaps once they are settled, it won’t be so tense. They will have a chance to know each other better without the stresses of a war or the road ahead. 

Your thoughts stray and your vision fogs as you stare at a blue tapestry. Jazlene continues to babble and suddenly, the clink of her cup jolts you from your trance. You look at her as she slumps against the table. Her shoulders are slack, her arms bent around her head as it droops onto the wood. You can see her breath as she hunches weakly in her chair. 

“Your highness?” You call to her. You sway on your feet as you watch her. Come on, move. “Your highness?” You take a step toward her, “Lady Jazlene?” 

She groans and slips to the side. You rush around without a thought to catch her. She garbles drunkenly as you hold her in her arms, one leg still on the seat as her other hangs limply. She’s heavier than you would expect. 

“Your highness?” You squeak as you struggle to keep her off the ground. You can’t drop the queen. 

Her head lolls as her lashes flutter. She is certainly not conscious. The acrid scent of wine rises from her lips. You try to hike her higher, slinging her arm around your shoulder as you grunt. She’s not that big, you’re just weak. You can carry a cask or a chest, but a person is a much different matter. 

You wrap your arms around her and haul her around the table. Her slippers drag and you clatter into the chairs and nearly trip on the edge of the rug. Your leg muscles thrum with the effort and your back racks. You look around. The bedchamber is too far. 

You turn and little by little, step by step, drag her to the couch. Her feet loudly scrape across the floor. You angle her around with another laboured grunt and as you do, the hinges whine and the left door opens. You look up as the king enters and your lips part in surprise. You’ve been caught. Rather, the queen has. 

He stares at you and eases shut the door. He comes around as your arms quake. He wordlessly takes his wife from your grasp and lays her across the sofa. You put a pillow under her head and back up, rubbing your upper arms. 

“Your highness, she was not feeling well,” you say. 

“She has drunk herself into a stupor,” he snarls as he backs up, crossing his arms as he glares down at her. “Do not lie, especially on her behalf. It does not become you.” 

“Your highness, I apologise. I only worry for her--” 

“You shouldn’t,” he intones, “she doesn’t worry for you. Or me. Or anyone but herself.” He turns and goes to the table. He rights the overturned cup and you reproach yourself for not doing so first. “But I do appreciate you attending to her. I’d rather not have found her upon the floor.” 

“Your highness,” you bow your head. 

He’s quiet. You’re unsure what to do next. Should you leave him with Jazlene or stay to tend to her? He will need sleep for the ride. 

“Little maid, you will send to have a bath drawn. There will be little chance to wash upon the road,” he commands. 

“As you wish, your highness.” 

“Mm, if only,” he murmurs as she sits and grabs the empty bottle, sneering at its hollowness. 

You set off to have water brought to his chamber. You assist the other servants in carrying the vessels of steaming water. All the while, the king ruminates at the table. He picks at his index finger and his cheek ticks. When at last the tub is full, you go to trail out after the castle servants. 

“Little maid, I require assistance,” he says. 

You remain and the doors close in the tension. You watch the king, your fingers twined together as you cautiously approach. He glowers at his fingers and huffs. 

“You have small hands,” he rests his palm open on the table, “please, I would have use of them.” 

Curious, you move towards him. He turns to you and holds out his large hand. He pokes his index fingers up and hisses. 

“I got it on the door. A splinter,” he explains. 

You see the dark spot, just the minuscule tip of it poking above his rough skin. The skin around it is inflamed, both from the sliver and his fussing. You bring your hands to cradle his single one and lean to have a closer look. You keep one hand under his and slip the other down the side of his palm. 

You brush your fingertips over the lines of his knuckles. He’s quiet as he lets you gently squeeze. You glance up beneath your lashes. 

“It might hurt, your highness. Apologies.” 

His cheek twitches, “I’ve had worse than a maid’s touch.” 

You squeeze until his flesh his taut. You pinch the tip of the splinter with your other fingers, using your nails to get a grip of it. You pull slowly. Very slowly, terrified of losing hold and having it go deeper. The wooden sliver slides out and before you can examine it, it falls to the floor, disappearing into the fabric of the rug. 

The king sighs, “better.” He brings his other hand over yours and covers your small ones with his, “many thanks, little maid.” 

He lets you go, his calloused skin brushing your sleeves, and he hums grimly. He bends his head forward and his white waves shift on his shoulders. He pushes his hair back and raises his head again. His eyes almost glow as he looks at you. 

“I should fetch some water for the queen in case she stirs--” 

“Later,” he dismisses, “might I ask another favour of such delicate hands?” 

You dip your chin down, “I serve you and the queen, your highness.” 

“Mm, yes, you recall, the knot in my shoulder, where I carry my sword,” he points along his shoulder, “if it isn’t trouble, I might have you loosen it before I must ride anon.” 

“Your highness,” you acquiesce, curling your fingers into your palms. You remember that first night you met him, as he sat in the steaming tub and had you touch him. You sweat at the memory. 

“It would be best before I soak,” he reaches to untie the laces of his tunic. 

You watch him, helpless. As with the queen, you can only heed his whims. At least he is gentler in his mastery. He pulls his tunic above his head and strips it away completely. He lets it hang over one leg and squares his shoulders as he sits back in the chair. 

You go around him and he moves his hair to his other shoulder. Your hands tremble slightly before you touch him. His muscles are thick and his skin taught across everyone. His arms are rounded with bulk and his neck is bullish in girth. He carries so much strength and power as if it is nothing. 

You squeeze the muscles gently with one hand, pressing the other behind it. You knead carefully, gradually putting more behind it, responding to the soft breaths and low grunts rising from the king. You hit a spot with some resistance and he growls. 

“There,” he grits as he drops his head forward. “Harder.” 

You push your thumb against the little pearl of tension you feel along his shoulder. He exhales deeply and lets out a wolfish snarl. He grips his thigh as you work his flesh. Your hands move without much thought. Lady Rezlyn often requested to have her feet done, a much less ideal task. 

“Mm, treasure...” he breathes though his words aren’t entirely clear. 

Another noise rises from him, sharper than before. You stop, frightened. 

“Your highness, have I hurt you?” You utter. 

Before you can retract your hand, he has a hold of you. He lifts his head and hangs it back, his hair spilling down. He looks up at you with his bright eyes as he clings to your hand. He presses it flat and moves it over his shoulder. He drags it down against his chest where you can feel his heartbeat. 

You’re caught in his gaze and his grasp. You just stand there, entranced by his golden irises. Each time you see them, they are more brilliant than the last. Your own chest tightens and binds up your breath. 

“You can never hurt me,” he rasps. You gulp as he lightens his hold and pets your hand. He closes his eyes and winces. “Little maid...” he sits forward and gently moves your hand away from his chest, “you must go now. You must face the road with us and you will require rest.” He lets you go completely and stands. “I trust my wife will have many a demand to keep you busy.” 

“Yes, your highness,” you murmur. 

“Now,” he insists. “You must go now.” 

He crosses the chamber and stops in the door to his bedchamber. You quickly flit over to the doors that lead out to the corridor. You pause and glance over as you sense him move. He stares at you, his eyes licking with flames. His chest rises and falls, trimmed in thick hair that trails down his hard stomach. 

“Go...” 

You obey and heave open the door. The soldiers on the other side snort. It is late, they must’ve dozed. You don’t think much of that as you harry down the corridor, not looking back. The king’s timber nips at your ears. The way he spoke; ‘go’. It was more than just a word; it was a warning. 

⚔️

You rise with the castle, quickly falling into the tumult of the impending departure. When you arrive at the king’s chambers that morning, you are sent away. You find Jazlene in her own. He must have taken her back before the sun. 

She is groggy and sombre as you help her dress. The pain in her skull leaks out in pathetic moans. You offer her lemons water and a cool cloth for her head. You see the difference as she accepts but she remains weak. It will be difficult for her to ride. 

Horses fill the courtyard and the luggage carts crowd around the stables and rear of the castle. The scene reminds you of Debray. You only hope Queen Jazlene does not cause a similar scene. You don’t believe she can. 

You accompany her to the front of the train. The king is not there. The queen clutches her throat as if she might be sick as the smell of the horses is stirred by their whipping tails. She grumbles and calls for a water skin. You find one and she shooes you away. 

“Enough of you,” she snips.  

You stay close, keeping watch should she signal for anything else. She can barely lift her head to do more than drink thirstily. Lords and ladies as good as ignore the queen as she mutters to her horse. 

“Eh, mouse, there y’are,” Bryce’s voice undercuts your pity. “I’ve been looking for ya.” 

You face him and the weight slips from your shoulders, “you have?” 

“What are you insinuating?” He challenges, “Daisy’s missing ya.” 

“Oh,” your brows raise, “well, it just so happens I miss her too.” 

“We’ll be off soon. You should come claim your place with the luggage.” 

“Should,” you agree. 

You follow him through the press of bodies. You get further down, away from the pages and soldiers, see Daisy lazily hoofing at the ground. She chews on a sparse bit of grass in the dust. As you near, you notice that her holster is thicker than it was. She is attached to a small cart. 

“What is this?” You ask as you stop short. 

“It’s yours, mouse,” Bryce says staunchly, “isn’t right you riding with the chests. Not for so far as we need to go.” 

“You... you did this for me?” You ask. "But... what about--” 

“Found a spare horse. He’s a bit less friendly than our beloved but he’ll do fine enough,” he explains, “’sides, Daisy needs a respite. She don’t needa be carrying around my hefty behind much longer.” 

“Oh, my,” you put your hand to your cheek and go to the cart, “Sir Bryce, you are a true knight.” 

“Don’t you get sappy with me,” he tuts as he follows. “Look inside, will ya?” 

You look inside the cart. There’s a long cushion and a pack. It’s a lot compared to what you came with; nothing. Bryce reaches in and tugs something from beneath the cushion. You watch the fur ripple out as he reveals the cloak. It’s thick and long and hooded. He holds it up. 

“When we get to the Hinterlands, you’ll be needing this,” he says. 

You touch the fur, it’s soft. You blink and feel it between your fingers. Your eyes sting. 

“Sir,” you bat your lashes, “it is too much for me.” 

“It isn’t very much, you are just too humble, mouse,” he folds and holds it out to you. “Now, don’t you be telling anyone this was my doin’. I got a reputation to uphold.” 

“Oh,” you clamp your lips shut as you try to hold back your emotion. 

A smile breaks through and you bare your teeth. Your cheeks hurt from the joy bursting forth. You hug the cloak and rock, looking around. As you do, you falter at a familiar face.  

The king leads a dark horse along the edge of the yard. He is looking at you, or so it seems. You let your expression slip and tamp down your glee. You bow your head in King Geralt’s direction. 

When you look up again, he is gone. 

[mydearlybeloathed]

𝐈 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ³

𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞, 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞...

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a ghost from your past makes a surprise appearance, dragging forth all the regrets and wishes you'd spent years trying to drown. and yet, some strange string of Fate keeps you and the future king of the pirates intertwined, for better or for worse.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: opla!luffy x gn!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.6k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: use of Y/N, gn reader, ANGST, alcohol, an existential crisis probably

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬: the 1 (long pond), i want to live, son of nyx

series masterlist

If someone asked you how many years you’d been a marine, your answer would be uhm, well, less than ten, because the actual number was lost to you. But you knew it’d been less than ten. Being with the marines for more than a decade was a thought that shot nausea straight to your gut.

However long it’d been, things had reached a comfortable norm. You rarely saw Koby those days. Back when you were stationed on the same ship, you and he had grown close, finding something familiar in the soul of the other. Now Koby was a captain, you were just under him in rank as a commander, and the two of you were under different commands. 

You rarely noticed when a day passed anymore. It was all a numbing cycle of chores, reports, and arrests—repeat. Your cohorts had taken to a game they called Make-Y/N-Crack, in which they did everything in their power to draw any sort of reaction from you.

No one had won so far, your deadpan too seeped into your whole being that you’d near forgotten how to smile.

Your main indicator of a passage of time was the wear and tear of Luffy’s wanted poster, one of his very first, and certainly not his last. It was faded in some places and torn in a corner, but you held it close to you wherever you went, including the island your ship was stopped at for supplies. 

Given that the ship would be there for a few days, you and your fellows had one night to yourselves to roam the town and do as you pleased. 

“Commander—”

“We’re off duty, Nia. Call me my name,” you said evenly, cutting off the soldier girl. Nia burned bright red, mouth snapping shut. You sighed. “What do you need?”

“Well, I was just wondering why you’re going that way?” she asked, jutting her chin at the side street you’d been headed toward when she called you back. Behind Nia, a rowdy crowd of fellow marines waited for their friend to join, each casting you a contemplative kind of glower. “We’re all headed to the bar, if you wanted to come?”

They all hated you, for reasons you didn't bother to fathom. All except Nia, who was possibly too gentle to be a commissioned marine, in your opinion. “I’m fine. I know where I’m going.”

She nodded once and turned tail, jogging after her friends who nudged her shoulder with a tease you didn’t catch. You stood for a moment and watched them go; you watched their easy smiles and close camaraderie, and you missed that.

Koby flourished in this line of work, setting out everyday to make this world better. You felt you should be doing the same—that you were doing the same—but it all felt so useless. So mundane. Worthless.

You had yet to cross paths with the pirate Monkey D. Luffy. It hadn't yet been a decade, but what if ten years did pass? What then? Would you continue as you are, mindlessly walking a path you’d carved for yourself?

“I need a drink,” you muttered, turning back down the dimly lit street. 

You were somewhat familiar with the town, having been here once before around a year ago. Koby had been with you then, that being one of your last weeks together before he was promoted and moved to a different ship.

It was your intention to find the cozy tavern once again to maybe mull over some of your less-bitter memories. That thought had you running a hand over your face. What’s become of me?

Sometimes you forgot why you’d joined the marines, and then the poster tucked into the pocket of your coat burned with the reminder. Other times, you wondered why you stayed after all this time (you hadn't found a decent answer for that yet).

You found it was easier to get drunk than to wonder where your decisions had led you.

The moment you stepped into the tavern a wave of warm air hit you, along with the odor of sweat, alcohol, and bread. Not the most pleasing combination, but you trudged inside and beelined for the bar anyway. 

The bartender shot you a tight grin, stress lining her forehead. “What can I get ya?”

“Surprise me,” you muttered, setting some money down on the counter. She swiped it up and made to fetch a drink, but her eyes found your messy uniform first. She hesitated, glancing up at you, before warily continuing on her way.

You threw your head into your hands, heaving a sigh. You really should have changed before leaving the ship. Being a marine didn’t make you popular with a great many people. You liked it when town’s smiled at you even when they saw your uniform, but those occurrences were growing fewer and farther between.

If only you had Koby’s optimism. If only you had the guts to stand up. If only you’d gone with Luffy. If only, if only, if only…

He’d probably forgotten all about you, moved on with the sea in his hair and light in his eyes. 

“Here you go.” The bartender placed a drink to your right. You cast it a glance and pulled it closer, peering into the dark liquid. “Strong stuff. Ya look like you need it.”

You nodded through a huffy laugh. “Thanks, miss.”

After cracking your neck you tipped back your drink, grimacing at the sting and just plain awful taste. She chuckled as she walked away. “Told you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumbled into the cup, taking another swig and slamming it back down with a cough.

A figure plopped into the seat beside you, the ruffling of their coat meeting your ears. They let free a hefty sigh, and you swore you felt their exhaustion just radiating off their skin. 

“Brandy, if you please.”

You choked into your cup, this time not from the rancid burn. Stiff as a board, you stared daggers into the bar, hands tight around the cup. The bartender handed over a glass to the person beside you.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” That voice was gruff with a sly tilt to it. You knew that voice.

You didn’t want to turn, but you did anyway, wide eyes landing on the profile of a one armed, red haired pirate you thought for certain you’d never see again.

Shanks swirled around his liquor before taking a drink, slamming the cup back down a moment later. Really, you should have fled the site and gone to spend a miserable night with the other marines. But your whole body was seized up, eyes locked on Luffy’s idol.

“I—” you squeaked, cupping a hand over your mouth an instant later as Shanks cast you a side eye.

Immediately, he was curious, wondering why exactly this kid looked so familiar. He turned his head, disturbed by how you stared at him like you’d seen a ghost. scrutinizing your face, it hit him like a punch to the gut; in his mind’s eye he shrank you down a few feet, gave you a set of buck teeth, and placed you next to a little curly headed boy.

“Y/N?” He laughed. “What—You’re so big!”

Though he smiled, you couldn’t help but picture his face in a wanted poster. Your uniform felt all too hot and heavy all of a sudden. “Uh…”

“What’re you doing here, kid?” He clapped you on the shoulder and nearly knocked the breath out of you. “Where’s Luffy? I never thought I’d see one without the other.”

You hated to spoil his excitement at the prospect of seeing the boy, so you avoided the question altogether. “I’m here for work.”

He saw right through you, his smile losing some of its genuineness. “And Luffy?” You turned and tipped back the last of your drink, and Shanks finally noticed your attire, particularly the familiar emblem. “Shit—the Marines? Really?”

Annoyance crept up your mind. You held your cup in both hands, gaze hung. “Commander Y/N, at your service.”

“Commander… wow.” He shifted to completely face you, a grin working up his face. “That’s amazing.”

You had expected a shout, maybe the retrieval of his pistol. Not whatever that was. You faced him warily, catching pride flashing in his eyes. “You’re not angry…”

“Why would I be?” He waved for the bartender to bring him another drink, motioning two fingers at her. “You’re successful. Always knew you would be, Worm.”

A childish part of you fluttered at the mention of that old nickname. Bookworm. Hah. You hardly read these days, always too busy. The bartender put down two shot glasses and swept away. “But… My job is to catch pirates like you.”

He scoffed, nudging your glass toward you. “No offense, Commander Bookworm, but you’re not catching me anytime soon.”

“I wasn't going to try. Just saying.” You picked up the glass and watched him reach to clink his to yours. Letting slide a scant smirk, you accepted the cheers and shot back the liquid in sync with Shanks. 

You nearly gagged again as you set the glass back down, laughing. “God, I hate liquor.”

Shanks nudged you as he called for yet another drink. “Can’t say the same.” The conversation fell short, and Shanks cast you a glance as you fiddled with the fabric of your coat. “Mind if I ask how you got here? I mean, I figured for sure you’d be with Luffy. You’ve seen his poster, right?”

“Of course,” you snapped back, your hand passing over your pocket. “I, uhm… A while back, Luffy escaped…”

His eyes held a misty sadness. “And you didn’t.”

You found yourself shaking your head, hands closing into fists. “I chose to stay behind.”

Shanks waited for you to elaborate, blinking blankly. And when you didn’t— “Why the fuck would you do that?”

“Excuse me,” you startled.

“Why the fuck,” he enunciated incredulously, “would you stay behind? He’s gotta be beside himself.”

Straightening up, you narrowed your eyes at him. “Even if he was, it’s been years, Red Hair. He’s gotten over it—”

“Have you?” The question was instantaneous, no hesitation behind the dagger-like words.

“What?”

“Gotten over it. I doubt you have.”

You gaped at him. “You know nothing about me. Don’t think you’ve got me all figured out just because you ruined my life by giving Luffy all those stupid dreams—” You choked, huffed, and attempted to make a quick escape.

Shanks’ hand found your shoulder, gentle yet firm, and you plopped back onto your seat, eyes closed tight. “Let me go.”

“I’m sorry,” he said slowly. “Okay? I’ll back off.”

Without asking or saying anything at all, the bartender set another glass of that awful drink in front of you. You took a sip, shaking his hand off and taking a moment to breathe. “It was for the best, all right? I would only hold him back. Look how far he’s come. He couldn’t have done that with me lagging after him.”

“Why would you be lagging?” When you didn’t answer, only turning your face away, he nudged you with his shoulder. “Worm?”

That name made it hard to take anything seriously, but somehow, you managed, hissing out a sigh through your teeth. “It’s much easier to read about other people being brave.” Chewing your lip, “I like to read about heroes, mostly to remind myself why I’m not one.”

“You’re a marine. Surely sometimes you’re a hero.”

“Sometimes.” Throwing caution to the wind, you drank your whole glass in one swig, letting the alcohol simmer through your blood and turn your mind hazy. 

“What did you mean,” he asked. “When you said I ruined your life?”

“Oh. It’s nothing.”

“Tell me.”

You tried to slide off the stool again. “Goodbye, Shanks.”

He didn’t stop you this time, only shifting to watch you slowly trudge away. Shanks scoffed. “C’mon, Worm. What’re you so afraid of?”

Lots of things. You were afraid of spiders and falling, though not of heights themselves, and you quite liked the daddy-long-legs. You were afraid of losing, of failing, of being wrong. Of seeing Luffy again and having him be completely disappointed with what he saw. An all consuming fear that you can’t change what you are, that you’re too far down this road to ever think of turning back.

You hardly realized you’d stopped walking until Shanks was at your side, moving to catch your distracted gaze. “Kid?”

You swallowed thickly. “I was always content with my fate. Luffy wasn’t, and a lot of that has to do with you. The rest was his own passion.” That incessant burn resurfaced in your throat. “So I stayed because I wasn’t about to drag him down with me. He’s too good. I…”

Dammit. You’d been doing so well. You hadn’t cried in months. Trying to glare, you spat, “Goodbye.”

You made to walk past him and actually leave the building this time, but he caught your wrist. Whirling around, your curses were cut off by a quick and dangerous offer: “Come join my crew.”

Shanks was so sincere, nearly hopeful as he stared into your eyes. You wondered if this is how your father would look at you if he knew how to be kind.

Barely breathing, you shoved every word and every notion down to the pits of your mind, retracting your arm to wrap it around yourself. A singular tear fled your eye and was wiped away in an instant. Shaking your head, you backed away from him, trying not to stumble, and bolted out of the tavern. 

The worst of it was Shanks’ sad sigh you caught as you fled, like he’d expected this, like he was wondering why he bothered to ask.

Later, you found Nia and the others waltzing back up to the ship. Your face was dry and your expression a void, and Nia smiled as she raced toward you. 

“Commander!” She skidded to a stop, backtracking, “Sorry. Y/N.”

“What is it?” you said a little too harshly.

She wasn’t perturbed, grinning up at you. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

Your heart held this odd numbness you had come to equate with acceptance. Luffy’s poster burned like hellfire in your pocket. “I think so.”

Nia invited you to join the rest of them in the ship’s galley, promising good conversation and cheap wine smuggled on board. You told her you’d think about it, and she chased her friends up the gangway and onto the ship. 

The sea licked at the wood of the docks and the wind bit at your skin. And you stood solemnly, watching that crumpled wanted poster become saturated by murky water till it sank out of view.

You regretted it instantly, a recurring theme for you, apparently. 

How easy would it be to walk away from the marine vessel and find Shanks again? How simple would it be it to ditch this marine’s coat and set off on your own? Your hands started to tremble at the very notion. Not easy and not simple at all. 

Casting a glance up at the starry sky, you bit back a sob, and you made a wish on the first star you laid eyes on. Please, please don’t hate me.

Stiffening, you set your jaw and cursed yourself. You had to get a hold of yourself. Being a marine was hell for you, but you’d been doing it for years. Seeing a ghost from your past and having him give you a chance shouldn’t be so crushing. Honestly, you should be cursing Shanks for giving you an offer you didn’t deserve. This was all his fault, all Luffy’s fault—

And you broke, breath seizing as a silent cry fled your lips. 

You loved him—of course you still loved him. You would until you died, you think. And that was the problem. With your arms wrapped around yourself, you thought back to the day everything changed.

Luffy’s little broken boat, disappearing on the horizon, Vice Admiral Garp leering at your shoulder. Your first moments entrapped by fear. You’d been proud of that day, once upon a time. Now you weren’t so sure.

Was there any room to turn back, with years of running from your past behind you?

“Oh, Luffy. What have I done?”

A cord in your heartstrings snapped, and your feet scrambled away from the marine vessel. A gasp ripped from your chest, eyes aflame, and your fists tightened desperately around this bout of courage.

Back down the road, back to the little tavern, you burst through the double doors, certain you looked insane as your eyes sweeped the dim room. The bartender’s eyes snapped up from where she was cleaning the many glasses you and Shanks had left behind. A fistfull of beri had been left in his wake.

“Keep going left,” said the bartender. “You might catch him.”

A thank you slipped past your lips as you raced outside, raising your hands in two L’s to pinpoint the right direction, taking off down the street that faded from cobblestone to dirt under your footfalls. 

Over twigs and leaves, under trees that grew thick further down the path, your heart thundered against your ribcage. The sloping road grew thin before it gave way to a secluded beach lit only by the moon. Your chest heaved as sand kicked up behind you.

“Wait!” you cried. “Shanks! Wait, please! I'll go with you! Shanks…”

A little lantern illuminated the dingy too far away to hear you as it rowed closer to the ship anchored out in the bay. A whisper of his name fell off your tongue, throat suddenly dry and stomach sick.

You hit your knees, fists grabbing at grains of sand that slipped through your fingertips. “Come back. Please…”

For the second time in your life, you watched a ship sail away carrying with it the chance of freedom, leaving you on the sand empty and helpless.

જ⁀➴

Luffy rarely dreamed when he slept. When he did dream, he never remembered it, the wild scenes fading seconds after he woke. 

Which is why he startled awake, hands clawing at his hammock, straw hat falling off his face and into his lap. He clung to the sound of your laughter, of your touch grazing his cheek, of the feel of your skin under his hands—

He didn’t dream often, but when he did, he often dreamt of you. 

He rubbed at his sleep crusted eyes and ached for the quickly fading memory. The finer details of the plot were soon lost on him, but he knew in this dream you were happy. Luffy liked those dreams much more than the more common ones where you cried, too far out of his reach to comfort.

“Luffy?” spoke Chopper, his voice hazy with sleep as he yawned. “Are you okay?”

“Huh?” Confused, Luffy realized he was gasping for air. “O–Oh, I’m fine, Chopper.” He glanced down from his hammock to offer the reindeer a trembling smile. “I’m good, really.”

Not buying it, Chopper huffed and stood from his own hammock, making quick work of climbing up to Luffy’s. He sat across from his captain, worry all over his furry face. “Did you have a bad dream?”

“Nah, don’t worry ‘bout it.” He reached over to ruffle the tuft of fur between Chopper’s antlers. “Sorry for waking you.”

He smiled softly. “It’s okay.” Chopper started to snuggle into the fabric of the hammock, obviously having no intention of climbing back down. “I was having a bad dream too.”

Luffy leaned back, doing his best to calm his nerves enough to go back to sleep. “Yeah?”

“Mhmm. Nami was angry at me. It wasn’t fun.”

The captain laughed, promptly shut up by a voice from the hammock underneath. “Shut up, would ya?”

Chopper squeaked, “Sorry, Zoro.”

The swordsman sighed and rustled in his hammock. “It's fine. Go to bed.”

Soon Zoro’s snores filled the mens’ quarters, and Chopper’s calm breathing soon followed. Sanji and Usopp snored in tandem as well, till only Luffy remained awake, staring at the ceiling, trying desperately to recall his dream.

You couldn’t be happy, wherever you were. How long had it been? Far too long, though he wasn’t sure exactly how much time had passed since he last saw you on the beach of Foosha Village. 

Would he recognize you? Would you recognize him? Luffy had to hope the answer was yes, and he had to hope one day he’d have the chance to rescue you, to set you free just as you freed him.

“I’ll find you,” he threatened the silence. “You can’t hide forever.”

Miles and miles away, kneeling on the sand, you swore you heard a familiar voice in the wind, but it couldn’t have been. You were halfway near drunk. That must've been it.

Luffy turned his head to look out the window of the cabin, and you tilted your chin to stare at the stars. The stars twinkled down on the both of you, promises and threats hung on the wind and sea that separated you. 

Some endings are always meant for tragedy. Some loves are meant for doom. It was how Fate worked. 

But Fate favored you and Luffy—forever working to save the other, forever aching for the day that would bring you side by side once again. 

>>

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @its-not-too-late-for-coffee @khaleesihavilliard

[reddesires]

I stumbled upon your blog and love your Noa fics especially the bathing one and your most recent courting ones! I love your characterisation of him 💕

Can I please request Caesar courting fic pls! Desperately need more of him on your blog! Thank you🩷

Caesar Courting Headcanons [Caesar x Human!Reader]

Caesar x Human Reader

Fandom: Planet Of The Apes

Rating: No Warnings.

A/N: I really think that Caesar is an Acts Of Service king. He shows his love best that way, but you can sprinkle in some words of affirmation here and there since he knows that humans often need assurance of love vocally. I know this isn't a full fic but I had these headcanons written out already, I promise in the near future I'll make it into a whole fic ❤️

•First off, if you think that you'll maintain personal space whilst in the presence of Caesar, you'd be dead wrong. You can guarantee that he'll practically be breathing down your neck making sure that your by all means in top condition, you could be doing daily tasks and sure enough your favorite ape man is somewhere nearby watching.

•He's gonna want your input for things that should be generally for his advisors, but your opinion on things holds a special place for him. Essentially, you'll be his right-hand woman, and no one will convince him that isn't the right choice, starting as right-hand woman to wife after all.

•Your gonna have a chauffeur if you're not within the colony. If he's held up by responsibilities and unable to accompany you, then he's send Rocket or even Blue Eyes to go with you. He'd rather take no risks when it comes to your safety.

• 👏PROVIDING👏 he's determined to make sure that you are as comfortable and fulfilled as possible, as your potential mate (in his mind, you're already his mate sooo) he has to display his resourcefulness. He's aware of most human customs and how difficult life can be when without the luxury of certain necessities that you were used to having before the colony so he's more than willing on being on the hunt for it in the abandoned human locations.

•Whatever free time he has is time spent with you. it's a no-brainer that he's an avid quality time type of guy. All the stress of looking after the colony and constantly being dragged into various meetings and such, you put him at ease with your presence. The usual scowl that resides within his expression softens as he looks at you when you quietly speak to him about whatever crosses your mind.

•Sharing meals with Caesar and his boys up in top nest, you were taken aback the first time he requested it but now it's a given since Caesar figures since you'll soon be joining his family as his mate you minus well share meals with them (your unware of his train of thought on this pfffttt). As soon as meal time is announced, you're off to top nest with an expecting Caesar awaiting your arrival.

•Can you guess who attended to the making of your hut and your comfy nest? You can guarantee that you'll be in possession of the finest pelts and the most structurally sound nest possible, your hut is honestly your sanctuary during the winter months since Caesar ensured that it was as warm enough for you to be comfortable after all you don't have the fur coat to protect you from the freezing temperatures.

•He gifts you with very specific adornments for you to wear, he's almost smug he notices that it's every day that you'll have the custom pieces on your person.

•Caesar is aware that you perceive his actions as him being gracious to you, but he has all the intentions of you becoming his mate. He understands humans have a more casual and outright dating culture, and he plans on speaking more plainly on his aim of becoming your mate. He just enjoys the chase.

[fickleminder]

return to sender

Nightbringer AU. Wherein unsent letters are finally delivered to their intended recipients.

Before Lesson 40 dropped in NB, I often wondered where the letters MC wrote when they were about to be kicked out of the Devildom disappeared to. This fic was also inspired by the lesson where the brothers were talking about their pacts with MC and it sounded like they really regretted it :/

Hopefully you found me helpful from time to time?

Don't push yourself too hard, "big brother."

.

.

.

"SURPRISE!"

The blindfold is pulled away with a flourish, and the first thing that catches your attention is the large banner spanning the entire restaurant with the words "THANK YOU" splashed across in bright colors. Everyone is dressed to the nines, holding party poppers and showering you in confetti, but all you can think about is how tedious the cleanup will be afterwards.

As though reading your mind, Diavolo speaks on behalf of those present. "You are our guest of honor tonight, so please, put all thoughts of work aside and enjoy yourself to the fullest!"

So that's why Asmo has been pestering you about your measurements lately. To his credit, the outfit he personally tailored for you makes you look like you belong in the upper echelon of demon society. Not that there are others around to pass judgement; Ristorante Six is fully booked this evening for the future demon king and his entourage.

"Here, I hope you're hungry." Beel hands you an untouched plate of food, piled high with all the expensive items you can only dream of ordering and then some. Even though half of it is almost gone already, the buffet tables lining the walls feature a generous spread of your favorite dishes.

"A toast," Lucifer announces at one point, raising a glass of blood-red demonus, "to our dutiful attendant."

Everyone follows suit, and a part of you wishes there was actual alcohol in your drink. You're way too sober for an occasion such as this. Still, you smile and laugh along.

"Cheers!"

.

.

.

Thank you for always thinking of me.

I always had fun when we were together.

.

.

.

When you finally find the time to visit what's left of Cocytus Hall, all you see is a ring of rubble surrounding a massive sinkhole no one has bothered to clean up yet. Though, in light of recent events, you're not surprised rebuilding isn't on the list of Diavolo's priorities, if it even makes the list to begin with.

The brothers have spared no expense in replacing your personal belongings, furnishing the spare room in the House of Lamentation with all the material comforts to make your residence as cushy as possible. Their personal attendant deserves nothing less, after all. You have everything you could ever need, and yet...

Dirt cakes your skin and wedges under your nails as you start digging with your bare hands, determined to salvage what you can from the remains of your former home. You aren't looking for anything in particular, not that there's much that managed to survive the collapse intact. A crumpled book here, a chipped flowerpot there, scraps of clothing pinned under debris, a thick piece of fabric with 'Kiss The Cook' embroidered on it—

The dam finally bursts. You clutch Solomon's apron to your chest and fall to your knees.

"Come back!" You sob, coughing and choking on dust between desperate gulps of air. "Please, I can't do this without you! Come back! I need you, Sol—"

No one hears you wailing into the night. No one helps you up when your tears run dry at last, when your bones ache with exhaustion and you can't feel your legs anymore.

You have no one to turn to, nowhere else to go, and as you drag your feet back to the House of Lamentation, you pretend you can still feel your mentor’s warmth on the tattered apron wrapped tightly around your shoulders.

.

.

.

Make sure to take good care of Snake Henry, okay?

I know you'll make an amazing demon.

.

.

.

"Oi, watch it!"

In the blink of an eye, you find yourself swept off your feet and cradled protectively in Mammon's arms. A shower of rocks and bricks crashes to the ground where you were standing not one second ago.

"Are ya alright? Are ya hurt anywhere?"

"I'm okay! Thanks for the save, Mammon." You gently swat his hands away once you're sure your knees won't buckle. Mammon continues to hover over you, but at least he's stopped checking every inch of your body for injuries.

"This is all Levi's fault," the demon grumbles. "Him and his stupid Envy summoning Lotan—"

"Hey, come on. He wasn't in control and you know it."

"I hate to agree with Mammon, but it totally is when we all have to clean up his mess." Belphie wanders over with a frown, having noticed the commotion. "Why didn't you use your magic to shield yourself?"

"...That's what I have you guys for!" You take a step back to dust yourself off. "Seriously, I owe you one."

"Getting others to do the work for you? Nice." Belphie gives you a thumbs up. You laugh when Mammon tries and fails to ruffle his hair in retaliation.

.

.

.

Someday we should both go bookstore hopping!

You're fine just the way you are, Satan.

.

.

.

"Is it just me, or do they seem more tired than usual?"

"Not tired per se, more like defeated?"

"We don't exactly make it easy for them. Plus there's all the stuff happening with the Little D's lately..."

"Maybe they're still upset we didn't make pacts with them."

"Nah, I don't think so. I mean, it's our decision too, and they gotta respect it!"

"They have done a lot for us since becoming our attendant. How about we treat them to a nice dinner? Take them out for a night in town, all expenses paid for."

"A fine idea. I'll run it by Lord Diavolo and see if we can arrange something."

.

.

.

Looking forward to the next Asmo Night!

I love you! More than words can say!

.

.

.

There's a chilly breeze in the air tonight, but being bracketed by two demons helps to keep the cold at bay.

"Are you sure you don't want to share my scarf? It's long enough for the both of us~"

"I'm certain you can fit my jacket just fine too."

"Guys, I'm alright!" Their overprotectiveness warms your heart. "We're almost back at Cocytus Hall anyway."

"Already?" Asmo pouts, shifting the bag of groceries to his other arm so that his now-free hand can grab yours. "I told you we should have taken the scenic route! It's so hard to spend time with— Hm?"

The demon lifts your hand and squints at your bare fingers. "No ring today? I noticed you don't wear it anymore."

"Oh, that?" You tug free of his grasp with a small laugh. "I just put it away for safekeeping, that's all. A Celestial item in the Devildom does tend to draw attention..."

"Makes sense. Plus it's Lucifer's, so you shouldn't even be wearing it in the first place," Satan huffs.

Before long, the three of you arrive at the front door of Cocytus Hall. Asmo peers through the dark windows with a curious hum. "Is Solomon not home? Seems like he's never around nowadays..."

"He has some business to take care of in the human world. It's nothing he can't handle by himself, so I'm on my own for a while."

"Why didn't you say so earlier? We could have a sleepover, or you could come stay with us! I'm sure it gets pretty lonely at night—"

"Knowing you and your brothers, I'd never catch a wink of sleep," you deadpan.

"Speaking of, we do need you at the castle early tomorrow." Satan sounds almost apologetic. "Lord Diavolo wants to coordinate efforts for rebuilding after Lotan's flood."

"Understood, I'll be there."

"Get some beauty sleep tonight, okay? See you in the morning!"

Asmo blows you a kiss while Satan hugs you goodbye. Once they leave, you make sure the front door is locked tight behind you before allowing your shoulders to slump.

.

.

.

Put your name on any treats you put in the fridge.

Keep your brothers safe, okay?

.

.

.

You love the brothers, you really do, but some days you just want to kick their asses to the Celestial Realm. It never fails to astound you how these centuries-old beings can be so immature.

"—umpteenth time, no brawling in the house!" If it were possible, there would be steam coming out of your ears by now. "What if the fire had spread to the rest of the library?"

"But Mammon ate my—"

"I don't care!" You snarl over Beel's protests, already feeling a headache building at the back of your skull. "If you want to pick a fight with one another, fine! Just take it outside!"

"Ugh, you're not the boss of us!" Belphie snaps back, flicking his tail irritably. "Some of us weren't even involved in this, so leave us out of it!"

The word 'stay' is at the tip of your tongue, ready to put your rowdy demons in their place, and it takes everything in you to hold it in, knowing it won't do any good.

"What the blazes is going on here?!" Lucifer storms in before you can say anything else. "Are you lot not capable of staying out of trouble for one day? And you!"

You flinch as the first-born rounds on you. "I thought I could count on you to have things under control. I'm disappointed to see that I was wrong."

"H-hey, it's not their fault," Levi stammers, looking visibly guilty now that Lucifer has turned his ire towards you. Next to him, the rest of his brothers fidget uncomfortably. "We'll clean this up, okay? So why don't you take it easy on—"

"All of you return to your rooms this instant." Lucifer refuses to budge. "I will supervise to make sure our attendant actually does their job properly this time."

And there goes the rest of your day. You grit your teeth and nod obediently, ignoring the demons filing out of the library one by one, some murmuring apologies as they shuffle past you.

This is fine.

.

.

.

Someday I'll buy you the ultimate alarm clock.

I love that happy look you have while you sleep.

.

.

.

"You're the only one who can tell them what happened."

You curl Solomon's fingers over a small stack of letters, written what feels like years ago but never handed to their intended recipients.

If Solomon seemed upset before, he looks downright devastated when you place the Ring of Light on top of the pile, the final nail in the coffin. "We'll find another way," he pleads. "You and me, just— Don't make me do this, please."

"It's too late for me and you know it." You avert your gaze, unable to maintain eye contact with the one person who kept you sane throughout this entire nightmare. "My magic is as good as dead, but you still have enough for a one-way trip."

"I can ask Barbatos for help, I'll do anything he wants—"

"They'll take care of me here, I know it. They may not be the same, but they're still my boys."

Anger and jealousy flash briefly across the sorcerer's face. "If only they knew..."

"All the more they wouldn't let me go," you sigh, rubbing his white knuckles with your thumbs. "They're fresh from the war, strangers in a strange land, and Lucifer just pledged loyalty to Diavolo. Do you really think he'd allow what's left of his family to give their freedom away? To a human no less? I can't use them Sol, not like this."

"You wouldn't hurt them!"

"I know, but they don't. They don't know me here, and by the time they do, we'll both be doomed."

"But Nightbringer—"

"Whatever he’s planning won't work, not without those pacts." Your eyes harden at the thought, determined not to play whatever game this father of demons was trying to pull. "So really, this is for the best. Besides, there's another you running around during this time period. Maybe I'll bump into him someday. Can't have the two of you together, that's too much good food for me."

Despite the weak joke, Solomon cracks a sad smile. "I've never been able to say no to you, my dear apprentice. But before I go, may I?"

You meet Solomon halfway, pressing your lips against his, losing yourself in his arms one last time while trying to imprint the smell of old spell books and spices into your brain.

"Are you sure I can't change your mind?" He whispers, one last-ditch effort even though the answer is clear in your watery eyes.

"Please," you shake your head, "do this last thing for me."

.

.

.

I always enjoyed the time we spent together.

I hope you never forget me.

Take care of yourselves, okay?

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

At the call of your name, you turn around to see a familiar demon rushing through the hallways of RAD towards you, only stopping once you're within arm's reach.

"Hi Barbatos, did you need something?" You frown, noticing his somewhat unkempt state up close. A loose button in one corner, collar not done up all the way— It's as close to disheveled as you've ever seen him, not to mention the tips of his horns and tail are quivering slightly.

The butler doesn't answer. He continues to stare at you with a foreign look in his eyes, which have started to mist over.

"...Hey, are you alright?"

Barbatos breathes your name again, in a tone you haven't heard since Solomon left this timeline altogether, and something buried deep inside your heart sings.

[auras-moonstone]

Hiii! Can you do y/n as a beloved princess who meets Ethan and they fall in love but y/n is set to marry a neighbouring prince also could reference the song enchanted by Taylor ☺️

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ putting roots in my dreamland — ethan landry

ᡣ𐭩 word count: 1.8K

ᡣ𐭩 pairing: florist!ethan landry x princess!fem!reader

ᡣ𐭩 summary: wanting to get away from the reminder of her upcoming marriage, y/n goes to the flower market where she meets a florist who charms her instantly.

ᡣ𐭩 contents/warnings: cheating (kind of.) forced marriage. affair. flowers. royalty. fluff.

ᡣ𐭩 author’s note: this is inspired by the song ivy by taylor swift!

ever since her father informed her of what awaited her, y/n felt like a whole other person. her body became just flesh and bones, it felt like her spirit and soul were sucked from within her. she felt completely empty from the inside. everything was ripped away from her—her power, her girlhood, her choices, her freedom, her future.

y/n was born with royal blood. she was created with the mere purpose of ruling the kingdom once the king—her father—left this world or decided he was no longer fit to fill that position. was she thrilled for taking the power? no, but it was her legacy, and she had accepted it a long time ago. in fact, she thought she would someday make a fair leader.

what she dreaded, though, was the marriage part. how she wished people could realize queens needed no man by their side. they could do everything on their own. but people loved the picture of a perfect family, even if it was all fake. so now y/n was doomed to a life of misery alongside a man who she felt nothing for.

prince james was attractive, and that’s where his positive traits started and ended. he was egoistical, vain, spoiled, a small man who believed he was big just because he belonged to one of the last great american dynasties. y/n hated men like him, and had known lots of them throughout her life. she was now going to share last names with him, and that repulsed her more than anything else.

“where are you going, sweetheart?” the voice of his father stopped her before she could reach the handle of the door.

“flower market, dad.” she said with a vacant stare.

her father sighed, he never understood her fascination with said place. but thankfully, he never prohibited her from going just with the condition that she would be careful not to let anyone recognize her.

her father sighed, he never understood her fascination with said place. but thankfully, he never prohibited her from going just with the condition that she would be careful not to let anyone recognize her.

y/n swallowed the knot she felt in her throat. “yes, father.”

the mention of that event felt like a stab through the chest, and everything in the castle reminded y/n of her faith, which was why she needed to get away from that overwhelming place as soon as possible.

walking through the beautiful market cleared her mind. how could it not? the flowers were so bright and full of life, it only fuelled her obsessions with them.

she stopped in front of the prettiest shop she had ever seen, it was called the ivy, and it was covered by said plant and small colourful flowers. “how would i love working here.” she whispered dreamily.

“wow, you aim pretty low in life.” a deep voice joked from inside the small shop.

the person caught her so off guard that she accidentally lifted her head too fast, making the hood of her cape fall down, uncovering her face. y/n heard the boy’s small gasp and dragged him inside the shop.

“you’re—i’m so sorry, your majesty.” he went to do a reverence but she stopped him.

“please don’t do that, and don’t call me that. y/n is just fine.” she smiled softly. the pretty boy just stood there in complete shock. “and your name, flower boy?”

“uh- e-ethan. landry. ethan landry.” his cheeks were practically on fire and y/n found that insanely cute. he was insanely cute.

ethan was very tall, had broad shoulders, biceps to drool for, adorable brunet curls and the prettiest brown eyes she had ever seen. the flower market had just gotten better.

“well, ethan landry, you have a breath-taking little shop.” she said, looking around the small place.

“thank you. it was my grandma’s.” he smiled melancholically. “what’s your favourite flower?”

y/n smiled widely, loving the question. “guess.”

“well, i think dahlias go really well with you.” flirting through flowers, that he could do. for a moment, he forgot he had a member of royalty standing in front of him.

[a/n: according to google, dahlias symbolise pride, inner strength, elegance, beauty, and creativity.]

y/n blushed beautifully and ethan’s heart did somersaults. “well, thank you. i’m glad that’s your impression of me because lately i’ve been more of a red carnation.”

ethan frowned. carnations were associated with death and sadness. “would i be too forward if i asked what’s wrong?”

y/n looked deep in thought. truth was, she shouldn’t spill her secrets to a stranger, no matter how kind and innocent he looked, but loneliness was the only thing y/n had know her whole life and ethan was opening a door that had always been closed. she just gave in.

“i’m getting married, and prince james is…”

“ugh.” ethan scrunched his nose in disgust.

the princess let out a small laugh. “my exact thoughts. and as you can tell, it’s not something i want. i know, you might say, that’s common in royalty, that’s your duty—“

“that’s not what i think at all. no one should be obligated to marry someone they don’t love.” he said softly, his heart hurting for the young girl. “i don’t know what to say so this is the best i can do.”

y/n attentively watched him as he prepared a bouquet of flowers. sunflowers—the symbol of vibrancy, of positive energy. the perfect selection if you wanted to cheer someone up. ethan wanted to cheer her—a girl who he had met ten minutes ago—, and suddenly her chest felt like exploding. for the first time in a while, she felt something other than negative feelings.

“for you, princess.” the word sounded beautiful coming from him. he had said it as more than to address her title, he said it as a nickname, all flirty and sweet.

“thank you, flower boy. but are you just going to gift them to me? i feel kind of bad, i’m disgustingly rich.”

ethan laughed. “don’t worry about it. it’s totally worth it if it helped you feel a bit better.”

“it did. thank you. they’re so beautiful.” she hugged them to her chest.

“so you two have something in common.” he blurted out. and then shook his head. “that was way out of line, i’m so sorry. please don’t cut my head off.”

“i’m not the red queen, you’re safe.” she laughed. “i better go… thanks for everything. you’ve made my day ten times better.”

“i’m glad to hear that… and, if you need some place to be free, you’re always welcome here.” what he also meant to say was i want to see you again.

“that’s a dangerous thing to offer. you might have me here everyday.” she joked, although it wasn’t really a joke.

ethan shrugged, a grin splashed on his face. “i wouldn’t be opposed to that. you can help me run the shop.”

y/n’s entire being lit up. “are you serious?!”

“of course.”

“see you tomorrow, pretty flower boy. it was enchanting to meet you.” she said as she walked out of the shop with such a grace that ethan was left hypnotised. he knew for certain that his thoughts would echo her name until he saw her again. he prayed that she would stay true to her words and come back. he hoped it had been the very first page, and not where the storyline ended.

ethan’s wishes came true. y/n went to meet the gorgeous flower boy every day. week after week they shared that little space together, getting to know each other deeply.

the flower shop became y/n’s happy and safe place, everything she needed was there—flowers, freedom, normalcy, ethan.

she couldn’t believe how much that boy had changed her for the better. he had brought forth a glow so incandescent to her life that she felt that her spirit and soul, which she thought were lost forever, returned to her bones. he now was all over her like ivy on a house of stones.

“wow, eth.” y/n said amazed.

“i know it’s not much…” he said embarassed.

“eth i’d exchanged my palace for this every time. it’s so cozy and… alive. just like you.” ethan gave her a sweet smile and hugged her. and against his chest, she murmured. “like me… when i’m with you.”

“you shouldn’t say things like that or…” he hesitated.

“or…?”

“or i might kiss you. and if i do, i might have to keep you forever.” his face, unlike other times they had flirted, was serious. there was no joking around now, he was speaking his truth.

“then you should kiss me right now. but just so you know, even if you don’t do it, i’m still keeping you forever.” y/n caressed his soft cheek. “you make me happy, eth.”

ethan pressed his lips against hers softly, carefully. it was a slow kiss, they took their time savouring the moment, the strong feelings that came with the connecting of their lips. it was nothing less than perfect.

ethan was the first to break the kiss, he needed to get the words out of his chest. “get away from that life, y/n. you could move here with me, work in the flower shop… maybe marry me? it doesn’t have to be now now, but in the future? i don’t see myself with anyone else. i’m only yours.” he let out a nervous chuckle.

hope filled her chest like spring breaking lose after a really cold winter. there were many reasons to say no, most of them regarding the fear of something happening to him if james found out. but, for the first time in a while, she felt fearless. “yes.”

“yes?” ethan asked surprised.

y/n nodded eagerly. “yes, yes, yes.” she hugged him tightly. “i want to do all of that. hell, i’ll marry you right now.”

“yes. yes, i don’t have a ring, but i’ll go get one right now.”

“stop stop.” she laughed. her smile fell softly, and ethan was scared for a moment, “i need you to know what you’re getting into. if we are together, i don’t want to be in the dark, okay?”

“i don’t want that, either.” he assured her.

“and to avoid that, i have to come clear to my dad. im calling the engagement off, and that means i’ll probably be disinherited.”

“if you’re worried about money and a place to stay, don’t. this house is ours, the flower shop is ours. you won’t need to worry about that.”

“it’s not that, although it’s nice to hear. i’m scared about our lives, your life.” she whispered. “i know my dad will be furious, but he wouldn’t do anything to hurt me. james, on the other hand, i don’t know where his limits lay. if he even has limits.”

“princess, look at me.” he said softly, and she obeyed. “i don’t care. he could burn this house to the ground and i still wouldn’t care. you’re worth everything. what we have, could have, is worth everything.”

y/n hugged his neck, pulling him close until their foreheads touched. “i love you so much.”

“i love you, too. so fucking bad my chest hurts.”

and as he said those words, y/n knew she was ready to go through the fight of her goddamn life for him.

[yanderes-galore]

9.) "The wound in your leg serves as a lesson, does it not?"

romantic Jace

34.) "No one else understands me except you!"

Platonic Luke

Reader had known the boys for her whole life. Reader kinda acts like a boy. She has shorter hair maybe shoulder length? And Jace when they were children would claim they were already married and she was like “um nah” and now that they are older Jace is demanding her to marry him saying “you can’t disobey me, I am your future king and you will be my queen” so reader decides to run away but like catches her and says something like “your the only person who understands how I feel” then drags her back while apologizing and tells Jace what happened. So Jace does something to her legs to make her un able to walk and run away.

Sure! I just hope I get characterization right :') This primarily focuses on Jace if that's okay.

Yandere! Romantic Jacaerys + Platonic! Lucerys Prompts 9 + 24

"The wound in your leg serves as a lesson, does it not?" - Jace

"No one else understands me except you!" - Luke

Pairing: Romantic (Jace)/Platonic (Luke)

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Obsession, The two manipulate each other, Delusional behavior, Violence, Possessive behavior, Forced betrothal, Medieval sexism/gender roles, Mature themes, Manipulation, OOC Jace, Cutting of Achilles Tendon, Forced relationship/companionship.

When you had met the two princes, you were a young princess yourself. However you were not like most princesses, choosing to sneak around and act like a boy instead. Such a thing wasn't common in the period... but your parents could never seem to stop you.

You used to play with them all the time as children despite the rumors that surrounded their birth. You were about the same age as Jace and Rhaenyra was pleased your parents allowed you to play with them. It was nice to not be judged for once... in return, Rhaenyra never minded your more boyish behavior.

Since you three were young, Jace had been attached to you. His brother, Luke, had seen you as an older sibling or friend. Jace, however, saw you as his future queen as the years went by.

Jace was told he was to sit upon the Iron Throne, while later on Luke was to sit himself on the throne of Driftmark. Neither of them were betrothed, Rhaenyra was still figuring such a thing out. You weren't betrothed either...

Making Jace's heart set on the idea.

"You and I are destined to rule!" Jace would always say to you, a smile on his face as he held your hands. "You have no betrothed, right? We'd be the perfect king and queen...."

Luke had always been one to support his brother. While Jace would ramble on and on about weddings and being the perfect prince for you... Luke would encourage it. You, on the other hand?

You didn't like to think of marriage.

While Jace was always excited about becoming king, ever since you were all young you resented your role of princess. You didn't like being wed off, you didn't like bearing heirs... you wished for a different life. Another role that wasn't playing princess.

Wanting to change roles was a sentiment you shared with Luke. The younger prince also didn't like the idea of ruling Driftmark. This was something that made you see Luke as a brother of your own... you were so similar... even if he kept encouraging his brother.

He encouraged Jace not only because it made the older prince happy... but it also brings you closer to Luke.

While you tried to distance yourself from the idea, Jace was hooked on the idea of courting you. To the point he even brought it up to his mother when he was younger. Rhaenyra was hesitant... but Jace looked so set on marrying you ever since you two were kids.

Such behavior only persisted as you three got older. You had tried to grow into your role, listening to your parents and wearing dresses. However, you never wanted anything big... you'd wear a dress you could move freely in.

Despite trying to look the part, you were still against marriage. You often told your parents about this... but of course they didn't understand. After all, royal families are often concerned with the succession of their bloodline.

You were still close allies with Jace and Luke. You often visited them but... you noticed Jace wasn't as intent on being flirty. He gave you a few thoughtful looks and grins, but now outright courting. Such a thought confused you... after all these years he's given up such fantasies?

It was a welcome change for you...

Until your parents announced that they had spoken to Queen Rhaenyra of Dragonstone... and betrothed you to Prince Jacaerys.

The news devastates you. Sure, Jace and you are childhood friends... but you didn't want to marry him. However... the news certainly explained why he had such a knowing gaze towards you. You're sent into shock and worry about the future.

But eventually... you end up meeting with Prince Jacaerys another day to discuss future relations... much to your dismay.

-🛡-

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this..." Jace whispers, holding your hand softly before kissing the knuckles. "You've managed to get even more beautiful, princess."

You sit with him and Luke in a room as your parents discuss with one another. Jace wears a smiles on his face as he gaze at you. You're his queen... you have been since he met you... he just knows it.

You look away with a frown, pulling your hand away. Jace seems surprised by your reaction and steps closer. Luke notices your hesitancy and pities it... he knows you don't really want this role... but you make his brother happy.

"Princess?" Jace whispers, stepping closer to hold your waist. "Are you nervous...? You know I would do everything in my power to treat you right as king... you're my future queen, after all."

"Jace..." You answer, a sad look in your eye. " You've been at this for years... don't you know I don't like the idea?"

Jace looks at you with a frown, pulling you close despite your squirming. Luke feels torn when he sees your sadness. He cares about both of you... but there was no way to win you both over, was there?

"Are you scared of when we consummate our marriage?" He whispers, making you freeze for a moment. "Or that others will judge us? There's no need... I won't let you be scared." You feel him kiss your cheek... and you push him away.

"I-I'm sorry... I just need to leave for a moment." You admit, stepping back. You go to leave the room, but Jace grips onto your hand.

"My lady..." Jace calls, tone oddly seeming to hide a warning. "Please don't leave... we can make this work!"

"Let go...." You whimper, Jace stepping closer to you as Luke goes to stand up.

"You aren't disobeying your future king, are you?" Jace whispers in your ear. "For my whole life I've wanted you as my queen... mother has given me such a chance. Why do you resist?"

The moment you hear a growl in his tone, you break away from his grasp and exit the room quickly. Jace calls your name but you don't listen as you rush down the halls. You weren't sure where you were running to, you just knew you needed to leave Jace.

Eventually you come across the gardens and find somewhere to sit. Your heart pounds in your chest at the thought of marrying Jace... not in the good way, unfortunately. You're scared of such an event.

You're so lost in the fear that you don't notice the young prince Luke approaching you.

"Princess...?" Luke asks hesitantly, the young boy sitting beside you. "Are you alright?"

"No..." You whisper, the small sound making the prince's heart ache a little. "I never wanted this... I don't want to be a queen...."

Luke frowns, remembering that you both hate the roles your parents gifted you. He didn't want to rule Driftmark. While he has pity for your predicament...

He too wants to keep you close, just like his brother.

"I know..." Luke sighs, eyes looking at you with sympathy. "No one else understands me except you... we're already like siblings..."

You smile softly at the young prince... but notice the darkness in his gaze.

"Which is why I can't wait for you to be my sister-in-law..." Luke smiles, your heart dropping at his words.

"My Lady!" Jace calls, anger in his voice. You freeze, wanting to run, but Luke grabs your arm tightly. You begin to realize Luke betrayed you for his brother...

Allowing Jace to pull you into his grasp tightly. Dragon blood does indeed run deep in the two princes despite their parentage... why else would they be so possessive of you?

"Queens shouldn't run from their kings..." Jace growls softly, nails digging into your skin. Luke begins to reconsider his decisions when he sees Jace slowly reach for his dagger. "Good kings need to teach their wives to listen, don't they?"

You feel yourself gently pushed onto the ground as Jace sits on your legs. You struggle but Jace orders Luke to hold you still. Jace, your king, holds a sadistic darkness in his eyes as he holds your legs.

"I'll make sure you never run from me again..." Jace whispers, kissing your forehead softly. You feel a sharp blade by your heel and try to move... only to be restrained.

"A wound on your leg serves as a lesson, does it not?" Jace grins dangerously as you feel the blade begin to bite your flesh.

"You'll never run from us again... welcome to the family, my beloved." Jace coos as Luke reluctantly covers your mouth.

The two make sure your screams are unable to be heard by your parents as the blade digs into your flesh... just one tendon cut free to hinder your movement...

By the end of it you'll be a bird with clipped wings... forever the spouse of a half-dragon.

[ckret2]

I honestly think that Ford is the only character in Gravity Falls that don't have moments of cruelty and unkindness... He's my favorite character because he's the one who is most near to perfection, in contrast to Stanley, who is the character most near to imperfection.

I think you can make some cases for a couple of moments—like, you could easily make a case for "standing by doing nothing while Stan was kicked out" being pretty damn cruel—but you could also just as easily make a counter argument that it wasn't really because it was Filbrick doing the kicking out and it's possible Ford was too scared to speak up and maybe he thought Stan would be fine since he'd already made globe-traveling plans and maybe at that moment he really believed that if Stan stayed at home he'd keep trying to sabotage Ford's future etc etc—like, everything he does that's Not Nice, how Not Nice it is depends on which literary analysis lens you choose to peer at the event through.

Part of this could well be due to the fact that he only got five and a half episodes; but I think the truest thing you can say about his character is that we don't see him act out of spite the way other characters do. Like, if Gideon had stolen Ford's perfect pool chair, he absolutely would have shown up at the pool in the middle of the night to claim the chair for the next morning, but he wouldn't have tried to blind Gideon with his wristwatch. If his nemesis had challenged him to mini-golf, I doubt he'd have conspired with the Liliputtians to cheat. If he was stuck in the house with an annoying pig he'd PROMISED not to put outside, he'd be more likely to storm outside in a huff and leave the pig in the house than he would be to break his promise and put the pig outside.

When Stan or Dipper want to be king of the hill, they're quick to turn to dragging their competition down; but when Ford wants to be king of the hill he tries to climb twice as fast as his competition. I feel like playing dirty to drag his competition down wouldn't even occur to Ford unless it's an "if I lose, somebody dies" situation. Winning by cheating would make him feel like he hasn't really won.

[pluckyredhead]

The Lost Titans in Canon: Rose and Eddie

Hello, friends! Are you ready to get your heart broken?

Rose and Eddie both joined the Titans during the 2006 One Year Later gap (when every DC book jumped one year ahead after Infinite Crisis) and first appeared on the team in #34 of the 2003 Teen Titans series. They're already buddies, at least enough to...hang out in the kitchen together, not facing each other and throwing oranges on the floor? This art is baffling:

What mind-bogglingly prudish teenager instituted that swear jar, let alone decided that "damn" was enough to qualify?

We later learn that Rose vouched for Eddie to get him on the team, apparently two seconds after having met him. Rose herself was on the team because Dick asked Tim to give her a chance.

Eddie is already protective of Rose, like when Cassie, uh...punches Rose hard enough to give her a nosebleed for the crime of being annoying.

Guys, you should...you should probably quit this team. I know it's just your first issue, but yikes.

Their second issue features a drunk Rose climbing into Tim's bed and trying to seduce him, and then Cassie showing up and everyone attacking everyone else, and then Marvin hitting on Cassie (I'm glad you're dead, Marvin), and it's pretty much just trash all around.

But it also features this moment:

Eddie has never recovered and NEITHER HAVE I.

Rose then confesses that she's afraid that the Titans will kick her off the team, since Tim doesn't really want her or Eddie around, just his real friends. (I could write a thesis on how Rose is afraid of being kicked out so she deliberately tries to provoke them into kicking her out, but this isn't the time.)

She hides it better, but Rose has never recovered from this, either.

Then Eddie gets hurt and Rose pulls they "Stay with me!" trope:

It has only been two issues! They're obsessed with each other!

But Rose warns him off:

Eddie continues to be ride or die for Rose, defending her when she's accused (falsely) of being a traitor to the team, and protecting her when his own dystopian future self shows up and tries to kill her. Also, Jaime joins the team and Eddie is wildly jealous of how much Rose seems to like him:

Rose 100% knows Eddie's right there and is doing this to make him jealous, btw. This is extremely explicit in the issue. She doesn't actually care about Jaime one way or the other (and Jaime tells her very clearly that he has a girlfriend).

Meet Rose Wilson! She has absolutely no idea how to cope with liking a sweet boy who is nice to her, so she spends an entire issue trying to make him jealous and making fun of him in a way that's genuinely mean! Oh, honey, no.

Between Rose blowing hot and cold, Tim and Cassie being just incredibly nasty to Eddie all the time for no reason, and the trauma of, you know, having sold his soul to the devil and being functionally orphaned and all, Eddie makes a very bad decision. He invites a bunch of civilian teens to Titans Tower, where they promptly run amuck. The Titans are furious, and Eddie is left feeling completely friendless and about an inch from being kicked off the team completely.

That's when he's approached by the Terror Titans, a team of teenage edgelords led by the Clock King, who DC was trying to make into a cool scary villain by having him *checks notes* fuck teenage girls and constantly murder people on-page as gorily as possible. This whole storyline is trying so, so hard to be cool and edgy but it's just incredibly tiresome.

Anyway Eddie recognizes that actually all these people suck, and refuses to join them and betray the Titans. So they kidnap him and Clock King proceeds to torture him.

Meanwhile, the Terror Titans attack Titans Tower. The only people there are Wendy and Marvin, who are non-combatants, and Rose. Rose defeats every member of the Terror Titans, gets Wendy and Marvin to safety, and then, beat to hell, walks back into Titans Tower to fight the Terror Titans again. Why?

THEY'VE GOT EDDIE.

Rose drags herself back into the Tower, hurt and bleeding, to beat Eddie's location out of the Terror Titans. It's such a good gender reversal of this trope, where the damsel in distress is an eldritch horror and the grizzled warrior coming to his rescue is a teenage girl. The execution of every single bit of this story is absolutely awful and unreadably stupid, but the idea in there is so good! Theoretically!

The Terror Titans manage to escape Rose's wrath, but Rose follows them to where Eddie is being kept: an underground cage fighting ring for captured teenage metas. The Teen Titans also realize what's happening and show up to rescue Eddie as well.

Rose saves Cassie's life and defeats Clock King, but Cassie is still like "Rose is crazy and dangerous and shouldn't be on the team" and Tim's like "Hm maybe you're right"...and Rose overhears.

Meanwhile, Eddie learns that Rose went apeshit when he was kidnapped, and is thrilled because maybe this means he has a chance! He shows up with flowers...

...and Rose is already gone. She's quit the team.

Rose is gone for about ten issues (she temporarily joins the Terror Titans, which is as unbearably stupid as you might imagine), and during that time, Eddie loses his powers and becomes just a regular guy. And then Rose makes her glorious return:

AND EDDIE LITERALLY SWOONS.

But Rose is not okay. She's becoming addicted to huffing adrenaline to enhance her precognitive abilities [insert eyeroll here]. Eddie, of course, is the one who notices:

I love that first panel in the last row. They've moved past the point where Rose can pretend she doesn't care about Eddie and Eddie can't tell the difference. The intimacy of that line (and that touch) - he knows her, and he's telling her so. UGH MY HEART.

Rose gets into another fight with Cassie, and it convinces her that she doesn't belong on the Titans. And, she argues, neither does Eddie, who has no powers and no training.

AND THEN THIS PAGE HAPPENS AND I HAVE NEVER RECOVERED:

Rose leaves. Eddie stays. And in the very next storyline, he dies. YOU SHOULD HAVE GONE WITH HER, EDDIE!

I'm not going to recount Eddie's death because I've done that already, but during this time, Rose had a backup solo feature in the Teen Titans book, and it included her hallucinating conversations with various characters. The last hallucination is of Eddie:

The next page is his last line: "...but that doesn't mean you'll never get another chance someday..." She doesn't know he's already dead. I WEEP. I WEEP ETERNALLY.

And that's pretty much the end of the canon Rose/Eddie story. Rose returned to the Titans in the next issue, but there's no scene of her learning or acknowledging Eddie's death - iirc she never mentions him again, which honestly I feel like is pretty in character. Her grief is private.

The comics Rose and Eddie appear in together are objectively awful. But somehow there's still a really compelling and heartbreaking little almost-romance in there, and now that Eddie's back in canon, I'd love to see someone at DC remember this couple, because they are so, so good together. (And imo much more interesting that Jason and Rose, who are functionally the same person and work better as two halves of the Eddie Bloomberg Defense Squad.)

Anyway if you also think they're neat, I wrote a sequel to The Lost Titans about them! You should read it: Five Couches Eddie (Tried to) Crash on After He Was Rescued from Hell (and One Time He Went Home).

[orchidyoonkook]

To What We Were Before, And All The Things After | JJK | Ch. 1

Title: Assembly’s and Introductions 

Pairing: Prince!College Student!JK x Fine Arts Major!(F)!Reader

Series Rating//Genre: (M) | College AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, S2F2L, Mild Indiffernce to lovers, sloooowwww ass burn

Summary: There’s a new kid at your prestigious university, he’s tall, tattooed and muscular, and oh yeah, he’s the Prince. 

Warnings: PG13, mild swearing, a general ‘lets get the ball rolling’ first chapter

Word Count: 5410

Release Date: January 26, 2023, 12:40PM

A/N 1: I’ve been working on this since September 2022, got 80K in, and have accidentally taken an extended break from Dec 1st until now. I need a kick in the pants to continue writing it so here’s the first chapter. I hope you enjoy as I have read this about 400 times and I’m sick of editing it.

A/N 1.5: it’s pronounced ‘Nehl” not “Neal”

“Come on, come ooooon!!” Yuri says as she drags you by one arm down the corridor, the other filled with books and study notes. You’re being dragged from your mid morning study session and she's starting to stretch your favourite sweater from how hard she’s pulling.

Slipping from her grasp to save it from any permanent damage, Yuri uses her new freedom to take the lead.

“Not everyone cares as much about this as you do,” you say, rolling your eyes. “I get you’re here because your parents put you here but I worked for it. I can’t just abandon my study plans for some guy,” voice echoing in the corridor as you succeed in keeping up with her quick pace.

Yuri mocks your words in gibberish, matching your tone, just more nasally.

She’s heard this hundreds of times since becoming your best friend in first year after being assigned your roommate. She may force you to go to places and parties you don’t find nearly as important as she does, but you also know she’s the only reason you’ve had any fun since starting university.

That doesn’t deter you though.

“I’m serious,” you insist, refusing to back down.

A look you know well flashes over her face. One that’s a mixture of absurdity and exhaustion— specifically at you.

“You know, sometimes I can’t even believe we’re friends. He’s not just some guy YN,” she looks over her shoulder to make eye contact. “He's the prince.”

Ah yes, the prince.

How could you be so foolish?

The fancy name given to the poor bastard who doesn’t get to decide his future—or work for it for that matter. Just has it handed to him because he was born at the right place, right time.

The prince who’ll be king to the biggest nation in the west one day.

The prince everyone freaks out over.

Sure, he’s cute enough, and will eventually have lots of money and power, because those are so important for someone like him.

But what’s money and power if you’re miserable or an asshole or you don’t know what to do with it? What’s money and power for someone who’s never known poverty and helplessness?

The title of Prince means nothing if you don’t earn it. Means nothing if you don’t know how to use it properly.

Who knows if this one does? So why should you particularly care?

Unfortunately, most people can’t get past the ‘young, handsome, future king of the Western Shores, hunk-a-hunk of dreamy’—blah, blah, blah, the media splatters over every magazine cover they possibly can, earning the prince a hefty social following of adoring, screaming—slightly brain dead if you had any say about it— ‘followers’ aka fans.

And Yuri, like every other girl on campus, is one of them. Minus the brain dead and screaming.

Well…Sort of minus the screaming.

She has screamed, in the past at least. So maybe just minus the brain dead part…

Anyways, she’s grabbing your wrist and you sigh, wringing yourself free of her near iron grip, again. But you can’t blame her.

Yuri’s focused on one thing, and one thing only.

And it’s beginning in 15 minutes.

“Plus I want good seats!”

You scoff.

“He’s just a person, Yuri. I get he’s got an important title and fancy job, but that’s all that separates him from us.”

She glares at you as you reach the courtyard of your school.

Trees surround the perimeter in evenly placed lines, a large running fountain at its center. There’s plenty of open grass space the students use to study, picnic or throw a ball around on. And its cobblestone walkways are currently covered in rows upon rows of filled up seats.

Most of those filled seats are in the middle though, which surprises you. You would’ve thought girls would be lining up at the front row to see their prince.

“Yeah, just the title and fancy job,” Yuri says, taking her turn to scoff and opens her hand to count on her fingers. “Let's not count the fact that he’s insanely hot—have you seen his body? His face? Or what of the land he’ll inherit on top of the land he already owns? And money! Can’t forget that. Or clothes. Not enough? I can keep going,” she switches to her other hand. “How about control over the largest kingdom in The West? They don't call him ‘Prince of the Western Shores’ for nothing, Sweets. Also the mass of adoring fans, security and advisors following his every move, nice cars, fancy vacation houses…should I keep going?”

You’re pretty sure she only stopped because she ran out of fingers and you don’t deign her with a reply. Yuri seems content to have made her point and she did. 

But you’d never admit that to her. Instead you keep walking, taking in the sights around you.

Your school is The Royal Academy of Business and Fine Arts. Anyone can study here if they have the cash, or the brains, though one method is much more abused than the other.

It’s one of the most prestigious schools in the world because it’s where nearly every royal on this half of the continent goes to university. Hence the “Royal'' in the title.

Ladys, lords, dukes, duchesses, princesses and yes, princes all go here—are most of your classmates, actually. But there is only one prince everyone cares about. The one who, in the next few short years, will not only be at your school for whatever it is his father deems appropriate for him to study in his post secondary education, but the one who is also first in line and heir to the biggest kingdom in The West—if it hadn’t been mentioned before.

His Royal Highness, Prince Jeon Jungkook.

Okay… look.

It’s not that you don’t like him, he hasn’t done anything to make you hate him, and you’re sure he’s a decent guy once you get to know him.

It’s just that you don’t really feel any type of way about him, positive or negative. And that confuses so many people around you.

Which in turn, confuses you.

Most people seem to think he’s some sort of god sent angel carved by the hands of whoever created the universe. Fawning over him and thinking he can do no wrong. But what they all fail to see is that he’s just like them.

Got a bit more of a leg up on life than most, sure, but still human. Like you, or Yuri.

He eats and showers and uses the bathroom. He gets a runny nose and puffy eyes when he’s sick. He has bad hair days and ties his own shoes… you think.

He’s just a regular guy with an irregular job. So no, you had no opinion on him other than disinterested neutrality.

But if you had to feel something? You guess you probably felt pity.

You worked your ass off in highschool to get where you are. You and your mom screamed until your voices were hoarse when you got your acceptance letter two and a half years ago. One of 25 scholarship students accepted on a full ride every year.

You were doing a major in fine arts and a minor business, wanting to milk your education for all it’s worth on their dime. Lucking out that your two areas of interest were not only at one school, but at one of the best schools in the world for both subjects.

You chose what you wanted for your life and you worked for it for years. And now you sit comfortably at the top of your class in both fine arts and business, not taking your opportunity for granted for a second.

Jungkook though? He’s expected to go here. Doesn’t have much of a choice about it, and he doesn’t have to work for it either.

A small part of you that has yet to mature envies him for how easy he has it, for the privileges he is given simply because of one six letter word in front of his name. That he didn’t have to put in 60 hour weeks and give up his teenage years just to prove he was good enough to be here.

He was born good enough.

But that’s a small part of you, and you can ignore it if you try hard enough.

The point is you felt pity because he’s probably never had to work for something a day in his life. He doesn’t know the satisfaction of working towards something, to not only succeed, but to be the best.

To earn what he has.

He won’t know what to do when real life hits him.

Yuri lets a baby scream loose as she spots her desired seats and yanks you out of your thought spiral. 

The front of the courtyard is still relatively empty, middle still filling up faster than anything else.

“Yes! Score! First row, left side, that’s perfect! He'll definitely see us.”

She grabs your arm a third time and it’s an effort not to drop your books and groan at her.

Yuri’s like you in the sense where she is not royalty, but unlike you she—or should you say, her parents—are loaded.

Family business perks.

She’s here because she can be, because her family can afford to send her and make donations, not because she wants to be or because she worked for it.

But don’t misunderstand that, Yuri works hard. She just happens to party more than she studies most days. That and plan her future with a very rich and handsome guy who has yet to be determined.

You’d jokingly deemed her a royalty hunter after about an hour of meeting her for how badly she wanted to ‘marry up.’

“See you,” you correct, or has she forgotten about Nel, your boyfriend of 5 years? Your high school sweetheart and who is currently, much to your dismay, at school about 5000 miles away.

“I’m sure Cornelius wouldn’t be mad if the prince charms his girl just once, seeing as his royal highness can do that to most people just by breathing near them,” she quips. ”And even if he would get mad, Jungkook can just have him thrown in a dungeon for being overprotective and jealous.”

“The royal palace doesn’t have dungeons, but they do have a series of interrogation rooms on the third lower level,” you inform her. You did a project on the history and architecture of the royal palace in tenth grade—and Nel really wouldn’t care, he knows where he stands, just like you do.

“How do you just know that!”

Yuri didn’t know you in highschool and you used that to your advantage every single time you could, laughing bright and loud.

She starts dragging you down the walkway again, a habit of hers. Like she’s worried you’ll try to slip away if she isn’t forcing you where she wants you to be.

It’s a good instinct on her part.

You're nearly there, so you focus more on the trees just starting to turn colours overhead, casting slightly pigmented shadows on the ground. Fall is just starting to creep up on the heels of summer, the days of sunscreen and chlorine slowly being replaced by pumpkin spice and crisp apples.

She sits exactly where she wanted too, and you plop beside her, glad you’re wearing a light sweater and tights. They are just warm enough to keep the slight breeze from giving you chills, but also keep your legs from sticking to the plastic seats.

For such an expensive school to go to you’d think they’d have better assembly furniture.

You notice a news camera off in the distance and suddenly understand the empty front seats. No one wants to publicly embarrass themselves on national television from seeing the prince, rewindable and replayable, forever seared into the internet.

It’s times like these you’re happy you’ve never been one to get starstruck. They’re all just people, why be shocked or surprised when they exist near you?

Opening up your books on your lap, you figure you can kill the next ten minutes in a productive way, considering what happened to your original plans for the mid morning.

And as you do, you feel the seats around you begin to fill, not a single one empty by the time the event starts.  Not even the ones up front.

A jerked movement catches your eyes and you see that two seats closer to the pedestal from Yuri is Adaline.

Great.

Adaline Dupree is basically a princess from the Eastern Shores. ‘Basically’ because she’s not, but she certainly acts like she is. A fake princess, an even bigger royalty hunter than your best friend and your not so secret arch nemesis.

She’s in your fine arts classes—all of them, unfortunately—her proper title being ‘Duchess of…’ some province you never bothered to learn the name of, and she’s one of the most well known people on campus.

Tall, with beautiful blonde hair, hazel eyes, freckles, a slim figure and quite the socialite. You’re surprised she went into fine arts and not modeling. She’s got the ego part of the job down pat.

Good for her for being pretty. But anyone could be beautiful on the outside with enough money and a surgeon. That’s not why you considered her your nemesis, you don’t give a shit about any of that.

She was your nemesis in the academic world. Because not only was she beautiful, she was also brilliant at her craft.

Which happened to also be your craft, and it pissed you off to no end.

Where you were first, she was second and where she was first, you were second. Always neck in neck with one another, always trying to one up each other.

You only considered yourself better than her because unlike her, you hoped at least, Adaline was a complete and total bitch. She took what she wanted without remorse and she wasn’t above sabotage to get it.

You learned that the hard way in your first year. And you’ve always wondered if that was her privileged upbringing speaking or if she’s just like that naturally, so unused to not getting what she wanted that she’d take it.

Therefore, it is of absolutely no shock to you that she’s sitting as close as she possibly can to where the prince will be standing. Directly in front of the pedestal at the base of the fountain in the center of the courtyard.

A door opens to your right followed by a couple screams, and you can only assume the man of the hour has arrived. A red camera light flicks on in your peripheral vision and you take that as your confirmation and cue to close your books.

The Dean of Schools, a few advisor looking people, a good handful of terrifyingly large security guards, and a head of black hair you conclude to be the prince all make their way towards their destination.

A smirk graces your face at all the girls batting eyelashes or screaming his name, as if that would get his attention. You’re about to mention that exact thought to Yuri, but you notice her eyelashes looking awfully similar to those around you and can’t help failing to stifle a laugh.

She catches it. “What?”

“Nothing,” you say. “You might just want to pick your jaw up off the ground.”

Her response gets cut off when a voice comes over the speakers.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for such a warm welcome,” says the Dean, calm and assured. She knew exactly the welcome they'd receive. “I’ll keep my introduction short. Today, I present to you not only the newest addition to The Royal Academy of Business and Fine Arts, but the future King of our great nation. He has requested to formally address the student body before he starts classes this fall semester, so without further adieu: His Royal Highness, Prince Jeon Jungkook.”

Riigghht. Did you mention he was the prince of the country you’re living in?

Well…he is.

The crowd soars in volume once more, a couple “I love you’s” thrown in for good measure as the prince steps up and you zone out.

From your angle, you can see his whole body from the side, and that even though he’s holding cue cards, he doesn’t use them, placing them face down on the pedestal.

His dark hair is swept back in a suave styling and he’s wearing a simple navy long sleeve button up, black dress pants and matching leather shoes.

The outfit makes him look ever so princely and very much not like a student. More like one of the faculty.

However, what you don’t expect are the small patches of ink on his arm peeking out of his right sleeve. Or just how tight the clothes he wears are on his apparently very muscular form.

You remember Yuri’s words from earlier, only now registering. You knew he had muscles, no one ever shut up about them. But seeing them in person… wow.

You kind of want to sketch him—for anatomy practice, of course.

The prince begins his address to the crowd and an eerie silence replaces the roars from earlier. You take a quick look around and notice that not one person isn’t completely transfixed on him. Even the dean can’t keep her eyes off him.

You give him credit for not balking under the intense gazes of literally everyone. You know you sure as hell would have, never being one to like being the center of attention. At least, not like this.

You clue into his speech as you look back at him. He’s talking about how he found himself as a teenager thinking of what he wanted his future to look like and what he wanted to do with his schooling, which is not only why he took a couple years to explore the continent before enrolling, but why he will be doing a major and a minor at the school.

One for his career, and one for his heart.

You won’t admit to yourself that the sentiment very closely resonates with you.

He continues.

“All that said, I asked to address you all today for one very simple reason, being that, for my time here at the academy, I wish to be treated like any other student. I am not unaware of my celebrity and how I am seen to the outside world. It is not lost on me my place in the world and who I am to become. I know for some that it may be… difficult to see me for anything other than who I am, and this is why I ask you humbly, just for the short while that I’m here, you all treat me no differently than you already do one another,” he pauses for a moment. “I extend my request most deeply to those who will be studying alongside me in my business administration major and photography minor, as I don’t want it to affect my studies.”

Yuri slaps her hand down onto your leg causing you to jerk forward and you clamor to not drop any of your books. Business administration is her major. Her parents want her to take over the family biz after school.

That was probably why she partied so much. Living as much as she can before being thrust into a job she doesn’t want for the rest of her life.

Pity creeps back up your throat at the thought.

Jungkook notices your jerking movement, but only for a second. His eyes meet yours and you hope yours convey ‘sorry for interrupting’.

You may not care about him, but just like him you are not unaware of his status in the world outside the walls of your school.

Yuri, of course, thinks he’s looking at her and not only does her grip on your leg tighten to the point of circulation cut off, she returns to her earlier routine of batting her eyelashes.

You roll your eyes away from her sight, but unbeknownst to you, well within the gaze of Jungkook.

He suppresses a smile at your response to your friend's clear attempts to gain his attention.

You, on the other hand, seem indifferent to him. He has the entire student body watching his every move with hawk-like precision, enraptured. Normal, for him.

But you?

You just seem to… not care. Like he wasn’t anyone special. Like the word in front of his name meant nothing.

And if it wasn't the most freeing feeling he’s felt in a long time.

“Thank you so much for your time, and I’ll see you all around campus,” he finishes before stepping down, security wrapping around him again until he’s barely visible. The dean pops up to conclude the gathering but you aren’t paying attention anymore, too busy trying to peel Yuri’s hand off your thigh.

“Yuri, retract the claws please!” you whisper-yell to your friend. And she does in fact, retract instantly.

“Shit, sorry. My brain is running a million miles a minute,” she says as she pinches herself, shaking her head and smiling. “I’m three years ahead of him in his major. His major YN! But he’s still older than us, which is so hot. I'm so glad he did that tour in the east and whatever else that kept him back for a couple years, it makes this whole situation even better,” you start to worry at the look in her eye as she continues.

“What if he needs a tutor? What if I become his tutor, and we fall in love like a cliche romance movie. I could be the future queen. YN, this could actually happen for me. I could actually get the prince, it’s not some wild dream anymore. I could talk to him and he would talk back and this could happen.”

You can feel that she’ll just keep spiraling, nothing being able to stop her train of thought at this point, so you try your best to at least have her do her thinking in her head.

“Maybe! I wish you nothing but luck!” And you mean it. You don’t think it will happen the way she does, but you never know. And you don’t want to give her false hope.

You’ve always been the realist to Yuri’s optimist.

With the assembly over, most of the crowd files out of the courtyard quickly, prior plans calling to them or classes starting soon.

Only a few stragglers are left behind. You and Yuri are two of them, as well as Adaline, and a couple more you don’t know.

Security starts to spread out and you watch as Jungkook makes his way to the people farthest from you, much to their delight.

It’s a group of guys, all of whom look muscular enough to be varsity athletes. Maybe Jungkook will want to do sports while he’s here. You know that he’s an accomplished rugby player, greatly to his fathers dismay, but to the pleasure of anyone who has about $10 and has access to magazines or wifi.

“Oh my god he’s making his way over. Do. Not. Move. I want him to come to us,” Yuri says, forcing you to stay in your spot. It would be fruitless to try anything anyway. Another lesson you learned the hard way in first year.

She starts fluffing her hair and asking you to check her teeth. You do. She’s in the clear.

Unfortunately, you two would most likely be the last people he greeted, so you had to watch as he made his way down the line of people.

He greets the guys with a handshake and a clap to the back, and the girls with a kiss to the top of the hand.

One thing you notice as he meets more and more people is that everyone still calls him ‘prince’ or ‘your highness.’

It’s automatic for them, they’re not even thinking twice about it, but it’s also completely besides the point of half of his whole speech. He wanted to be treated like everybody else.

It especially irked you when it was Adaline’s turn and she put on her most feminine, formal, and ridiculously overly flirty, “Hello, Prince Jungkook,” before curtseying, blasting her full facade of charm and courteousness.

Ever the dainty, prim and proper duchess, she’s all small laughs and less than subtle flirting, never impolite, and never speaking out of turn.

You wanted to gag, and you’re quite sure that’s exactly what your face conveyed. But Jungkook smiles wide for her, and is as kind to her as he was to everyone else prior. He even flirts back a little bit.

Yeah, you definitely want to gag. What a match those two would make.

But just as soon as he greets Adaline and her friend, he politely steps away and moves on to you and Yuri.

“Hello ladies, what might your names be?” he asks ever so formally.

You gently laugh at being called a lady and Yuri shoots you a look. Jungkook doesn’t appear to take offense though.

“Hello, your highness!” Yuri chirps in the most ‘I'm trying to flirt but trying to not sound like I’m flirting’ voice you’ve ever heard her use. “My name is Yuri Yeun, and I’m actually a business admin major too, just a few years ahead.”

Jungkook lifts her hand to his mouth, giving it a light kiss and she looks like she’s about to explode.

“It’s lovely to meet you Yuri, I’ll look forward to seeing you around the halls,” he says in the same tone he’s used for everyone else. He’s about to face you, but Yuri cuts in quickly.

“If you ever need any help with your studies, just let me know. I’d be happy to help you with anything you might need help with. Having already been through it, I may be able to give a students insight versus a professors.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for the future. Thank you for your generosity.” Again that same tone, you mentally dub it his ‘greeting the public like the ever so good royal I am’ voice.

He turns to you and extends his hand for yours.

You reach for it, twisting it so that instead of a hand turned upright to be kissed, it’s a regular handshake. If he wanted to be treated like anyone else here, you sure as hell were going to.

“I’m YN, it’s nice to meet you Jungkook.” At the mention of his name untitled, he pauses, eyes widening ever so slightly. It’s not a bad pause, just a surprised one. And by the looks of the small smile on his face, a good one.

Yuri's eyes, on the other hand, almost bug out of her skull at your informal greeting.

“Likewise,” he manages to get out, completely unlike his usually composed self.

You're the only one who hasn’t addressed him with his title, and it’s the most like him he’s ever felt.

Twice in one day—in one hour—you’ve managed to make him feel more human and more like himself than he ever has. With your distinct indifference to him of all things.

Jungkook decides then and there he’s very sure he wants more of it in his life.

He still hasn’t stopped shaking your hand, and you don’t know why that’s the only thing you can focus on. His hand is firm and calloused, the kind that can only be built over years of hard work.

Releasing you the second you think it, he looks as if he hadn’t realized he was still holding on too.

Quick to step back into his princely role, Jungkook says, “Pardon my forwardness, but I just have to say that the two of you are beautiful, and that it’s been lovely to meet you both.”

You swear you see Yuri’s soul ascend from her body at his words. “Thank you, Your Highness! That means so much coming from someone as well met as yourself,” she nearly fawns, and you roll your eyes out of her sight for the second time today.

And for the second time today, Jungkook does not let the gesture go unnoticed. How you hold no fear in showing how you feel in front of others, even those you’ve just met. As if it holds no consequence. 

It doesn’t for you, he realizes. 

You can freely show how you feel without worry of anyone over-analyzing your every facial tic. No fear that a slight misuse of a lip quirk or eyebrow raise could give away national secrets or offend a visiting diplomat.

He envies you for it. For having that freedom he so rarely does.

“You’re most welcome, Yuri. I’m glad you hold my opinion in such high regard.” He flashes her that well practiced bright smile and you already know what she won’t be shutting up about it anytime soon.

“I’ve always been told I have my fathers bone structure but my mothers beauty. I’ll be sure to let them know their Prince thinks the combination is worth complimenting,” you respond, not braggadocious or sarcastic in the slightest.

You know it would make your mom so proud to hear the future king found you pretty, even if you knew the compliment was given to every girl here.

Your father wasn’t in the picture, but that didn’t matter and the prince didn’t need to know.

“I hope they won’t mind a stranger's compliment on their daughter then,” Jungkook says, ducking his head slightly and giving you a smaller smile.

This one felt genuine, like he wanted to hold it back but couldn’t. So you return a small one of your own, to let him know this was an even exchange. You may not feel any type of way about the prince, but you were raised to be kind.

“Any praise for their daughter from the future King would be welcomed any day, I’m sure,” Yuri cuts back in, killing his smile along with it.

You’re sad to see it go.

“I’m relieved to hear it,” he responds, princely public persona back on. Stupid flashy smile back on. “What will you two be heading off to do now?”

“What I wanted to be doing for the last half hour in the first place before being hauled down here by this one,” you point a thumb at Yuri. “Finishing my study hour at the library,” you add quickly, before Yuri can get out her answer. You almost wish you hadn't because the hand that had your thigh in a death grip earlier now only somewhat playfully swats your shoulder.

“YN!”

“What!? I’m just being honest. He wants to be treated like anyone else right? That comes with people being honest to you instead of glazing over their answers with pretty little white lies to appease you.”

Yuri looks ready to rip you a new one, but she’s cut off again before she can open her mouth. This time by the prince.

“No, no it’s okay,” Jungkook says before she can swat you again. She stops mid swing at his words, eyes as wide as saucers at being stopped. “YN’s right, I appreciate the honesty, and I apologize for the interruption. I hope your studies will not be too greatly affected because of it.”

“Guess we’ll find out during midterm season,” you say with a smirk that turns into a genuine smile as you see Jungkook look panicked, like he actually thinks he messed up your education by disturbing your study session.

Relief quickly replaces the panic when he sees your smile and realises it was a joke.

Being treated like a regular person also meant being joked with at their expense, and he takes it in stride as his small smile from earlier makes a comeback.

“Well I have class in half an hour,” Yuri says, finally answering his question, “So probably grabbing a coffee from the cafe near the biz-admin building… I could show you if you want?”

“That sounds great actually, I’m still trying to figure out where everything is.”

“Great! Let’s go.”

Jungkook, ever the gentleman, lifts an arm for her to take and you watch them walk off, Yuri absolutely beaming as she glances back at you. You give her a thumbs up before collecting your books and heading back in the direction of the library.

Chapter Two: Unknown Numbers and Sharp Tongues

A/N 2: and so it begins.

[flurrys-creativity]

Happy Death Day

Pairing: Ateez (OT8) x GN!Reader; Genre: Royal AU, SMUT, PWP; Rating: nsfw, MDNI, 18+; Warnings: mentions of death sentences, mentions of prisoners, suggestive, oral (m receiving) eight different times, hints of becoming a concubine; Wordcount: 3.528

Summary: Once a month eight princes sat down to discuss the prisoners futures. So when it was your turn and they asked for your statement, you said something that would change your fate.

A/N: Due to someone sharing Ateez royal concept pictures in a server, my brain went wild. And after sharing my thoughts, I promised @sanjoongie to write it out. Also thanks to her as well as @daemour and @potatomountain for helping me figure out some details! As always please enjoy this and tell me what you think!

You silently watched as another prisoner got dragged to their feet and presented to the council of future kings. 

Ever since the old king died without a successor, six families came forth claiming the throne belonged to them. Though as none of them were able to back down, the sons of those families had to come together and work with equal leadership.

Each task the previous king fulfilled on his own was now distributed to the eight possible candidates. Only the biggest tasks were decided on together. Like Death Day.

Once a month prisoners of the country got presented in front of the council for them to decide on their fate. Some received redemption, others got sent back to prison for another month but most got sentenced to death. 

This month you were the last in line to hear your sentence. You watched silently how the other prisoners reacted to their fate - crying, screaming, literally throwing some tantrums. ‘Pathetic’, was the only thing you could think of and with each case you were more and more certain you wouldn’t give anyone the satisfaction of a similar reaction.

Two soldiers came to your sides and grabbed you by your elbows, pulling you to the front of the large throne room. They dropped you in front of the elevated eight thrones, ignoring how you fell down to your knees and silently groaned in pain.

You pressed your lips into a thin line and got up on your knees, placing your shackled hands on your lap and looking up towards the eight men on their respective thrones.

The thrones weren’t as lavish as the original one behind them. The throne of the old king still stood behind the row of make-shift thrones for the eight men. It seemed to be made out of pure gold and integrated into the floor with plush red pillows to make it more comfortable. 

The make-shift thrones didn’t appear that extravagant. Made out of dark wood and adorned with simple gold applications. Once the new king got chosen the thrones could be removed again as they weren’t connected to the ground.

As one of the men started retelling your supposed sins, you couldn’t care less to listen to it again. Instead your eyes drifted along the men, taking them in silently.

You noticed quickly how they wore similar uniforms. All of them were covered in the colours red, gold and black. 

On the far left from your point of view sat a man, who seemed quite large. He wore a hat, which covered half of his face. Yet you still felt his strong gaze on your form. Prince Song Mingi. His appearance was truly intimidating.

Next to him sat a man whose shoulders appeared to be even broader. He nursed a silver cup in his hand, hiding his subtle smirk behind it. Choi San. He curiously stared at you before he leaned over to his cousin.

Your eyes followed his motion, meeting the expression of a stone-faced man. Choi Jongho. Even under his uniform you could tell he was strong and a man of power. It felt as if every movement of his was calculated - same with calculating everything around him.

While his stare felt unsettling, it was nothing compared to the eyes of the man next to him. Kim Hongjoong definitely had the most unhinged aura surrounding himself. He listened intently to the words of Park Seonghwa, who sat right next to him and read all the information about you from a piece of paper.

He didn’t look up at you, solely focused on his task. Half of his face got hidden behind the paper but you could tell how stunning he looked anyway.

A sudden movement to his right brought your attention further along the line of thrones. Kang Yeosang leaned over to Seonghwa, trying to escape an incredibly touchy Jung Wooyoung with a pressed smile.

Wooyoung lounged on his throne more than sitting on it. His upper body half leaned over to Yeosang, where he tried to grab onto his arm. At the same time his feet dangled over the other side, hitting his overly uninterested cousin every now and then.

Your eyes landed on the large form of Jung Yunho. He rested his chin on his hand and leaned on the armrest of the throne, looking rather bored with the whole situation.

“Y/N?”

Your attention snapped back to Jongho, who raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Didn’t you listen?” He scoffed and shook his head, ignoring the snickering from some of the other men. “I asked for your statement on this matter.”

You tilted your head and blinked a few times to process the question. “What matter? The matter of my death sentence? Are you truly asking me to make a statement about the way I’m going to die?”

San snorted loudly, covering his mouth and face with his free hand.

Hongjoong looked rather amused. A soft grin playing over his lips.

Seonghwa finally lifted his eyes and stared at you, curiosity getting the best of him.

Even Wooyoung and Yeosang halted their spiel and turned to focus on you.

“So you’re not trying to talk yourself out of it? No heartfelt back story, no bribe?” 

You looked at Mingi, one side of your lips twitching into a smirk. “I didn’t know bribing was an option.” You pressed your tongue against the inside of your cheek as you took in the reactions of the eight princes in front of you.

Hongjoong gestured for the soldiers to leave the throne hall with a quick motion of his hand. Once the doors were shut behind them he leaned forward. “Currently your sentence is the guillotine. You’d need a rather good bribe to get out of that one.”

You hummed softly as if contemplating his words for a while. “No guillotine could take away the head I’m able to give.”

San choked on his drink yet again and started heavily coughing, needing Jongho to hit his back. Wooyoung leaned over to Yeosang with a wide grin, whispering something into his ear.

To your surprise though it was another prince, who stood up and called your attention. Yunho quietly walked over to you, stopping only a step away from your kneeling form. “Proof it.”

Your lips curled into a knowing grin. You raised your chin upwards, looking at him through your eyelashes. Even though he didn’t say anything else, his gaze was enough for you to know what he expected you to do.

You scooted closer to him without breaking eye contact. With your chained hands you wandered up along his long legs. With nimble fingers you opened his pants, well aware of the stares from the other princes.

Yunho crossed his arms in front of his chest. He refused to acknowledge the effect your touches and your eyes had on him. 

Another sly grin flashed over your lips. As much as he tried to keep composure, it was the little things that betrayed him. How the muscles on his thighs tensed, how his jaw ticked off or how his eyes got somewhat glassy.

You palmed his hardening dick through the fabric of his undergarments. You licked over your lips. The size underneath your fingertips made your mouth water and your imagination run wild. 

Hongjoong stood up from his own throne. He silently wandered to one side, wanting to have a better view of what was to come. Due to Yunho’s broad frame he wasn’t able to see you at all but he needed to know whether you could hold up to your own claim.

You pulled Yunho’s cock out of his restraints, wrapping the fingers of one hand around the base and pumping it ever so slowly. You moved your head closer to his crotch, kissing along his shaft and up to the head of the dick. 

A soft groan escaped Yunho’s throat and his head tilted back ever so slightly. He needed to focus again and it took him every ounce of self control to look back down. His breath hitched when you opened your mouth and swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock.

You forgot about everything and everyone around you, solely focusing on Yunho’s dick. You opened your mouth further and descended on his cock, taking him deeper into your wet cave. 

“Fuck”, Yunho cursed under his breath, all composure forgotten now that you bobbed your head on his dick and looked at him with big, innocent eyes. His breath became more irregular with the fast pace you set.

As if possessed he grabbed a fistful of your hair, pushing you even further down his shaft. The soft garbled noises you made as he hit the back of your throat turned him on even more. 

Tears formed in the corners of your eyes and you tried to relax your jaw and even your breathing to accommodate Yunho’s huge cock. Still, whenever he hit the back of your throat you couldn’t stop the gagging sound from escaping.

A string of more curses fell from Yunho’s lips until he suddenly stilled, shooting his load down your throat. 

Out of nowhere Wooyoung appeared in your line of view as he pulled Yunho away from you. He whistled in acknowledgement once he saw your empty mouth when you licked some spit from the corner of your lips. 

“Guess, our little prisoner proved it.” Jongho stood next to Hongjoong, observing the situation in front of him.

“What? No!” Wooyoung hurried to Yeosang and pulled him to your form as well. “Anyone can give head for one person! It gets interesting whether Y/N is able to give even more.” With that he positioned Yeosang right in front of your face and pulled his pants down, ignoring the weak protests of his friend.

Yeosang was already hard but when you glanced up at his face you noticed the deep red blush on his cheeks. He covered half of his face with one of his large hands, avoiding to look at you or any of the other princes. Yet he didn’t try to remove himself from the situation.

You kissed the tip of his dick, relishing in the shiver that ran through his whole body. For a while you only took the tip in, letting your tongue swirl around it and suck on it ever so gently. 

Yeosang whimpered, not even trying to keep silent. His eyelids fluttered shut. More and more tremors of pleasure ran through his body.

To both your surprises Wooyoung grabbed the back of your head and pushed you forward, holding you down on Yeosang’s cock. 

Your nose pressed against his sternum. The sudden movement made you choke around his dick, tears immediately running down your cheeks. You barely managed to breathe properly, feeling a slight sense of panic as Wooyoung didn’t let go of your head.

Yeosang on the other hand couldn’t help himself and came down your throat, moaning loudly with every spurt.

Wooyoung finally pulled you off of Yeosang. Though he didn’t give you any time to recover, pushing his own dick into your open mouth almost immediately. 

Your hands came up to his thighs, keeping you steady during the rough movements. After a few hard thrusts you were able to take over, making Wooyoung a moaning mess. You bobbed your head, varying the pace from moment to moment. Still, you wanted to edge him even more. You carefully pulled back your lips, grazing his shaft with your teeth. 

“Ah!” Wooyoung quivered from your ministrations. His knees wobbled dangerously and his whines became more and more desperate. “Please, fuck, please let me cum.”

You hollowed your cheeks, encouraging him to follow his pleas. Hot spurts of cum trickled down your throat.

Wooyoung came with an outcry. As soon as he finished, he stepped back on shaking legs. A thin line of spit connected your lips to his dick until he reached enough distance.

You observed him a moment longer as he ran his fingers through his hair. He looked back at you with half lidded eyes, the pleasure still evident on his features.

“So far our little prisoner only handled one at a time”, Hongjoong stated with a wicked grin. He glanced over at Mingi and motioned him to come closer with a nod of his head.

You watched as both men moved over to your sides. Their height difference made your head spin with imaginations of what was to come. Your eyes switched between both men, barely noticing how they freed themselves and leisurely pumped their dicks. You could only focus on your rapidly beating heart and the heat building inside of your body.

Mingi tapped his dick against your cheek, moving your attention to his long cock. “Open up”, he told you with another tap - this time on your lips.

You followed his command without wasting a second, even letting your tongue roll out. 

“Listens quite well”, Mingi let the others know as he pushed himself into your awaiting mouth. He grunted deeply and placed his large hand on the top of your head, which nearly covered it completely.

Even with his hand on your head, you had to work for him. You chose the tempo and how deep you actually wanted to go. 

But just as you found your rhythm, Hongjoong cleared his throat behind you. He grabbed you by your neck and pulled you off of Mingi’s dick. Hongjoong chuckled at seeing your tear-stained face. “Don’t forget about me, gorgeous.”

You silently shook your head. You’d never forget about him, you wanted to tell him. 

Hongjoong still pumped his own dick, glancing down at himself to indicate you should go to work now. 

While he wasn’t as long as Mingi’s, you still had to relax your jaw while sucking him off. To your surprise though, Hongjoong pushed you away from himself after a moment, motioning for you to focus on Mingi again.

Almost delirious from kneeling between two princes, you felt bold enough to raise your chained hands to use them on Hongjoong’s cock while blowing Mingi. 

You changed between both of them, ignoring how tired your arms got, until Hongjoong commanded you to sit still. 

Mingi and Hongjoong did the rest, only seconds later spurting strings of cum over your face and upper body.

You wiped your face with your fingers and licked them clean right after it. A smile spread over your lips, when you noticed the lustful eyes of the men as they stepped back to make place for someone else.

San’s gaze seemed soft on the surface. He cupped your face, helping you to clean off the cum. He grinned when you eagerly opened your mouth to clean his thumb, silently thanking him for his help.

You swirled your tongue around his digit, looking up at him through your lashes. With every move of your tongue though, you noticed how his eyes darkened and the lust grew more and more prominent. 

San pressed his thumb down on your tongue, smirking when you tried fighting against it. He forced your mouth open. His smirk grew once your jaw slackened. San grabbed his dick with his free hand and rubbed it over your lips, smearing his precum over them.

You wanted to wrap your lips around his cock, wanted to lick along his shaft with your tongue but you couldn’t do anything - just sit there and keep your mouth open for San.

Only towards the end did San let go of your jaw, ordering you to finish him off. 

You wrapped your hands around his base while you hollowed your cheeks to go down on him. You tried rotating your wrists for an extra kick but the limited movements of your hands made the job slightly harder. 

You noticed how San’s nose scrunched up the closer he got to his release. You moved your head back, resting his twitching cock on your outstretched tongue.

San watched how string after string of cum shot into your mouth and pooled on your tongue. He groaned and closed his eyes, throwing his head back until his load emptied out.

With a small smirk you kept your mouth open and moved your tongue around for a bit, playing with his cum before you swallowed it.

You sat back on your heels, licking over your lips. Even though your head and thoughts were spinning, you knew you weren’t done yet. You thought the next prince would simply step in front of you but when you turned your head, Jongho beckoned you towards him.

You pushed yourself up on your feet - the first few steps slightly uncertain from kneeling for quite some time. You walked up the five steps and stopped in front of Jongho, raising one eyebrow as you looked down at him.

Jongho chuckled and simply leaned back, crossing his arms behind his head. He looked at you, daring you to blow his mind.

Without hesitation you dropped down on your knees again. Your hands wandered over his strong thighs and up to the waistband of his pants. You giggled softly when Jongho lifted his hips to help you remove his pants. 

His eyes darkened and focused on you even more after hearing your giggle. Jongho swallowed harshly. Somehow - even without your mouth on his dick yet - he understood the reactions of the others.

You started with small kitten licks, fascinated Jongho only made little hums as a reaction. Trying to get even more out of him, you went down on him. You didn’t go slow nor tried teasing him. You simply desired to take all of him in.

“Shit.”

If you would have been able to, you would have smirked upon hearing him curse and seeing how his mask slowly broke down. The second you felt his dick twitching inside your mouth, you inhaled through your nose deeply and then pushed yourself down on him until your nose pressed against his sternum. You stayed in that position and only moved away once you milked Jongho dry.

Seonghwa appeared next to you and gently pulled you up on your feet, smiling awkwardly when your attention drifted to him. His beauty entranced you. 

“You did so well already”, Seonghwa mumbled and guided you a few steps away from Jongho. He had watched the other princes patiently, keeping silent about his painfully hard dick. He had watched how some of them were hard again and simply resumed to please themselves while they watched you intently. Seonghwa though hadn’t touched himself at all.

“I’ll do well for you too”, you whispered back, hands already rubbing over his clothed dick. 

Seonghwa exhaled sharply and closed his eyes. He took in the feeling, shuddering from the pleasure running through his whole body. “Please.”

Ever so slowly you got down on your knees one more time, removing his pants and undergarments at the same time. 

You wrapped your fingers around his shaft, using your thumb to circle his leaking hole. You looked up to his face, noticing how he bit down on his lower lip. 

He barely opened his eyes - just enough to see you opening your lips and enveloping them around the head of his cock. Seonghwa praised you softly, brushing strands of your hair out of your face over and over again.

Once Seonghwa came, you were barely able to swallow his load before he pulled you up on your feet again and slammed his mouth on yours. He parted your lips with his tongue, licking along your lips, teeth and own tongue as well - tasting his and maybe even the cum of the others. 

His kiss turned your world upside down. Your thoughts tumbled through your head without any control, just like your desire swirled through your whole body. It yearned for more.

After Seonghwa broke the kiss and guided you back to your spot before the eight thrones, you silently stood there - eyes unfocused, breathing irregular and mouth slightly open.

The eight princes had found their respective seats again, sharing meaningful glances between one another. 

“I think all of us can agree that your statement wasn’t just a bluff”, Hongjoong announced, pulling you out of your trance.

“And we’re willing to redeem you.”

“Under one condition”, Wooyoung chimed in and somewhat interrupted Seonghwa, who momentarily glared at him but returned to look at you with a smile and a nod.

“What condition?” You asked carefully, eyeing each of the princes.

“You’ll stay at the palace.” Jongho told you simply.

“Make use of your head.” San had his silver glass back in his hand and toasted it towards you with a wink.

Yunho shifted to the edge of his seat and leaned forward. “Maybe even more than just your head.” A smirk played over his lips as his eyes wandered along your form.

“We wouldn’t want to send you to the guillotine after all.” 

You straightened upon hearing Mingi’s words. But when you turned your head to look at him and saw a teasing grin on his face, you relaxed again and nodded in confirmation.

Yeosang’s deep voice pulled your attention at last: “I hope you’re ready for what is to come.”

© all rights reserved

Taglist: @xavi-in-kpopland​ @songsoomin